


Shatter Me

by Saucy (nyxnarciss)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awesome Charlie Bradbury, Awesome Missouri Moseley, Dean Has a Dog, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2017, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Librarian Dean, M/M, Mechanic Castiel, Mechanic!Cas, Protective Bobby Singer, Service Dogs, Soldier!Cas, everybody is awesome, except john winchester, librarian!Dean, reverse verse, reverse!verse, they are both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 13:36:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxnarciss/pseuds/Saucy
Summary: Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps.Step one: Survive attack from a giant drool monsterStep two: Shower and shaveStep three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite treeStep four: Feed and water the drool monsterStep five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved egos, six medications, and two more cups of coffeeStep six: Check his email and schedule for the dayStep seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for workIn none of these steps did it say: meet your soul mate, hate them on sight and cause bodily harm…. and yet.





	1. Chapter 1

As he stepped out of the automatic doors, the cacophony of noises and city smells were like a baptism of uncertainty. Ten years he had been surrounded by sand and foreign tongue. Ten years of wearing a uniform and knowing his place. Ten years of running away from a past he wasn't certain he would ever be ready to face. And now, after ten years, he was back to a place that seemed more foreign than the endless sand and a uniform that seemed to strangle him more and more as the seconds grew. The past ten years of wearing camouflage had never made him feel as invisible as he felt at this moment.

Hefting his rucksack higher, the ebony haired man pushed his way through the chokehold of noise and anxiety. His destination was unknown, but even having no idea where to go and what to do with himself didn’t scare him as much as the newly purchased phone in his pocket and the long known phone number burning away at the back of his brain. 

The once soldier walked on with no destination in mind and no schedule to keep. He walked past business men in their expensive suits rushing by with no attention for their surroundings, past mothers tending to their children, past an endless sea of people who all seemed to have a purpose while he floated by like a ghost lost in the past.

The feeling of rain and a clap of thunder finally pulled him out of his reverie. Ducking into a mostly empty bar, he found himself with no more excuses not to make the call. His hands shook and his breath caught in his throat when he heard her voice.

“Hello this is Missouri.”

“…..”

“Hello?”

“… Hey, Mama…”

“Castiel Novak, it’s about time you called home!” 

Castiel flinched. “Mama, how…”

“Don’t ‘Mama’ me! You haven’t called home in almost five years, and you think I would forget my baby boy’s voice?”

“No, mama…”

“You have been gone for almost 10 years, Castiel. You haven’t even called your mama or your brothers and sister. How were we supposed to know you were ok? I raised you better than this, Castiel. You had a good home and brothers and a sister who look up to you and you don’t call home in 5 years and all you have to say is ‘hey mama’?” 

“I’m sorry, mama.”

“… I know, honey bee. That doesn’t matter anymore. You are calling now.”

“I missed you, mama,” Cas sighed into the phone.

“We missed you too, Castiel” he heard softly.

“I’m sorry, mama…. I’m coming home. I’m gonna get a bus ticket and I’ll be there this wee--”

“You will do no such thing.”

Castiel felt like he was stabbed in the chest. After all of this time he was a fool to think that they would still want him, that he could just pretend like he didn’t walk out of their lives the day after his eighteenth birthday. This is what he deserves, all his life he knew no one would ever truly want him.

“Castiel Novak, you stop right now with that ridiculous train of thought. You have a job in Sioux Falls, South Dakota waiting for you starting next week and don’t you dare think we stopped loving you!”

“But, mama… how did you know I was coming home? I got off the plane two hours ago.”

“Charlie.”

Castiel groaned and shook his head “Mama, you know it’s illegal to hack the United States military.”

“Well, if you called home more than once every half decade we wouldn’t have to have your siblings break the law now would we?”

Chuckling, Cas responded “Yes, mama.”

“Now get your butt to the Greyhound station on Main. Your bus leaves at midnight and it’s a long trip to Sioux Falls. You don’t owe anyone one second of your time in this dusty old town; they never did anything for you. Bobby Singer will be expecting you come Wednesday morning at the bus station and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Castiel took a deep breath, and it felt like the first real breath he had taken in years, before he responded “Thank you, Mama…”

“Take care of yourself, little Bee.”

Hanging up the phone, Castiel sighed in relief and rubbed the tension from his brow. Though the call had gone far better than he could have ever hoped, the urge for a stiff drink was getting stronger by the second. Just like Missouri said, ten years was a long time, but no amount of time could make him forget the life he had because of her. She took him in off the streets and helped him see that the world wasn’t such a cold unfeeling wasteland; that he wasn’t something to be walked all over and discarded. She could have taken in so many more important and worthwhile kids. She could have saved herself all of the trouble that he brought with him. The day he aged out of foster care he packed his bags and ran. He had always felt like a waste of space and wanted to offer his place in the home to more deserving kids. Ten years of fighting and sweating and bleeding hadn’t made him feel more worthwhile, but it had helped him appreciate Missouri, the whole life she gave him, and the family he found in her and the other strays she brought in.

In all of the time she had known him, Missouri had always been one step ahead. She had snuck an envelope of cash and a letter he still carries with him in his bag before he ran away. Even now, he shouldn’t be surprised that she had known he needed a new start. The woman was a saint and one day Castiel swore he would show her how much he appreciated her and how she had saved him.

Checking the time, the raven-haired soldier decided one drink wouldn’t make him late for his bus. He ordered a double whiskey from the ancient bartender. Castiel let himself get lost in thought while he sipped the burning amber liquid, smoking a cigarette and relishing the freedom to just be.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps. 

Step one: Be attacked by a giant drool monster  
Step two: Shower and shave  
Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree  
Step four: Feed and water the drool monster  
Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved eggos, six medications, and two more cups of coffee  
Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day  
Step seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for work

For the past three years, it has been the same routine five days a week, with an extra hour of sleep on Mondays and Thursdays. Dean likes his routines; routines mean no surprises and that he’s in control. His life was out of his control for too long. He has come to begrudgingly enjoy the peace of his 9 to 5 life. Being a children’s librarian comes with its own set of standards and his own domain of control that he can rule over with this service dog, Daffodil, at his side.

John Winchester had always taught Dean that his Baby, a 1967 Chevy Impala, was a thing to be treasured. There were simple rules on how to keep her running and how to keep her clean: no sand in the car, check the tires and oil weekly, keep food at a minimum, and under no circumstances were there to be any dogs in the car. As vehemently as Dean has always followed his father’s rules, old Daffy was a special case. The German Shepherd drooled on the leather, left crumbs in between the seats and shed EVERYWHERE. But she had her own harness buckle, a polka dotted blanket, and a soft spot in Dean’s heart that could get her anything she desired.

Dean never imagined he would be the type of person to own a dog and spend his days nurturing children through literature, but life doesn’t ask you before throwing a curveball. Instead of coveralls and persistent grease under his nails, he wears waist coats and pressed pants and the only grease under his nails is from changing the oil on his Baby every few months. After over a decade, though, he has found a sense of contentment. And his dog was his everything. From the moment he met his sweet Daffodil, his life would never be the same. He knew a service dog was a necessity if he wanted to keep the life he had and not be plagued by constant fear or surprises. Still, he just wasn't convinced and only went along with it because Sammy, the brat, had given him puppy dog eyes and a guilt trip like you wouldn't believe. Miss Daffodil was better than he could have ever dreamed. Her chestnut and chocolate fur got everywhere, but was as soft as baby's hair. Her brown eyes were filled with kindness and purpose, her ears floppier than he had ever seen on a german sheppard. When Dean found out he was approved for a dog, he just expected to have another caretaker, another nosey somebody who would hassle him and frustrate him, but he never expected to get a companion that he would never want to part with. She became his shadow, his snuggle monster, his constant source of entertainment when he had to flick her ears back up. And when times got dark, she was his confidant. She was his everything. Now that he had her, he couldn't imagine his life without the toys littered across the house, or a morning without waking up to her drooling kisses and nuzzles. He would never admit it to Sammy, but the kid was was right- Daffodil had saved him in more ways than one. 

Dean pulled into the Caille Branch Library, straightened his slate grey tie, and took a moment to center himself for the day ahead. The nuzzling of a cold, wet nose in his ear after a few moments helped motivate him for the day ahead and reminded him that Daffy was too smart for her own good. His little girl knew that when she got into the library Dean’s co-worker, the normally unflappable Meg Masters, would break from her sarcastic manner and spoil Daffodil with a good morning treat. On one memorable occasion, Meg came in late and poor Daffodil moped for an hour before Dean took pity on her and gave her a piece of bacon out of his lunch box. Dean knows it’s not a good idea to spoil her, that she is a working dog after all, but no amount of treats and extra snuggles (very manly snuggles) has kept her from being alert when he needed her.

Today was the library's monthly ‘Wee Readers and Play’ event and within an hour dozens of parents and young babies would be descending on the children’s meeting room. The air would be full of bubbles, chatter, and a general atmosphere of chaos. The Wee Readers program helped promote literacy in young children by getting parents to read 1,000 books to their children before kindergarten, giving the kids the opportunity to be creative and explore learning through play. Dean was guaranteed to get hit on by at least four mothers, have Daffy slobber on every person within reach, and be drooled on or puked on himself before the end of the day.

Dean loved his job no matter how much drool got on his nice suit, no matter how many sticky pages of his treasured books he finds. Dean loves the controlled chaos that he has fostered in the children’s library and he had found a love of education and literature that he never believed he was allowed to have.

With a final deep breath and a whistle for Daffy, Dean entered the library to start another day of the rest of his life: full of laughter, sticky fingers, and rogue dog hair.


	2. Chapter 2

The bus ride ended up being over 24 hours with frequent stops, gruntled bus goers, and a near constant stream of texts from an annoying little sister. Charlie seemed to take ridiculous pleasure in tormenting Castiel. Seemingly nothing had changed in the past ten years.

When he finally dragged himself off the bus and into the heat of South Dakota, the soldier never wanted to see another bus for as long as he lived. His phone had officially died after Charlie's constant pestering, he’d been wearing his greens for over 48 hours, and any food he had brought on the bus was a distant memory. Castiel was exhausted. He had no idea who he was meeting. All he had was a name and a hope that this person would actually show up for him.

Walking outside, he looked around to see highway and empty farm land as far as the eye could see. The area seemed quiet and remote- somewhere you could easily get lost. It was exactly the kind of place he was looking for. Castiel wanted to start over, to go somewhere he wasn't known and where the shadows of his past weren't lurking and waiting to take hold of him. MIssouri always knew what Castiel needed without him having to even say it. Sometimes she even knew it before he knew it himself.

It wasn't even a five minute wait sitting outside the bus station, almost asleep behind his aviators, before a beat up pickup pulled up in front of him. The person driving the truck was a burly mustached man with a trucker hat that had seen better days. Leaning out the truck's window, the man asked, “You Missouri's boy?” Hearing that, Castiel's stress seemed to melt away as he grabbed his bag, nodded his head, and moved to the passenger side of the busted up Chevy.

“Mr. Singer, I assume?” Castiel asked once he was settled in the truck.

“The name’s Bobby,” the man grunted as he pulled out of the parking lot. “The yard’s a bit of a drive out of town. You’ll be staying above the shop and I had Garth get you some of the essentials.”

“The shop?” Castiel questioned, watching the farmland slowly turning into homes and businesses as they drove towards a small city.

“Yeah the shop, Singer’s Salvage and Auto. Didn't your mama tell you what you were here for?” Bobby responded, cocking his head away from the road and staring at the soldier like he was a new species.

“Honestly, Mr. Singer-”

“It’s Bobby, ya idgit.”

The onyx haired man sighed but continued, “Alright, Bobby… I find my mama likes to leave things up to be discovered. She enjoys a little bit of mystery in her life and ‘kindly’ shares these life lessons with us to figure out ourselves.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “She says it builds character, but I think she gets enjoyment out of confusing all of her young charges. Don’t ever tell her I said that, though. She’d whoop my butt.” He finished, chuckling to himself at the image of Missouri trying to set him straight at 27 years old like she did at 17.

“That sounds like Missouri. You're the first she sent my way, but not the only stray I’ve met. She said you know your way around a machine, and I’ve got an open spot I’ve been trying to fill for a while now. You are welcome to the room and to work the shop as long as you do the job and don't cost me more money than you make. The first week’ll be a trial, then we can work out a salary and schedule if you do well.” Bobby commented as he worked his way through the afternoon traffic in the small city.

Castiel nodded his head and lifted his pack, wordlessly asking permission to smoke in the truck. Bobby nodded and held out his hand for a smoke. “This never happened and no one needs to know about it ya hear?” The soldier’s lips tugged into a small, simple smile and he shook his head as he lit up his menthol and took his first drag.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160369388@N08/26785587679/in/dateposted-public/)

Twenty minutes later, Castiel found himself nodding off again leaning back in the truck as they pulled into a yard littered with junkers and a forest of knee high weeds and grass. Bobby pointed to the front of the yard, “Shop’s up that-a-ways, your room is on the top. This here is mine and my boys’ house when they come around and there is a shed out back with a workshop and freezers behind the house.” Bobby stated as he pulled the truck up onto the gravel driveway.

“If you need to go into town, I had Garth fix up an old junker that shouldn't die halfway there. Keys are in your room. And if you are hungry, come up to the house. The sheriff left me some healthy premade meals that are turning into glaciers in the freezer.”

Castiel took a second to look around the seemingly decrepit yard while he listened to Bobby talk, but his lack of sleep was starting to take its toll. “I appreciate it, Bobby,” he managed with a yawn, “But I’m gonna head on over to the shop and get some shut eye if you don't need me to work today.”

Bobby shook his head. “Your first shift isn't ‘til Monday so take today and tomorrow to get settled and go into town, then be ready to work.” Castiel thanked him again, hiked his bag onto his shoulder and hardly remembered the walk to the shop and to his room. He stripped down and fell asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

 

When Castiel awoke, the sky outside his bedroom windows was dark and the moon was high in the sky. Grumbling to himself and feeling his stomach knot, he realized that he woke up because he was hungry and the time between his last meal and now was longer than the entire bus ride to Sioux Falls.

When Castiel rolled over to check the time, he realized he never charged his phone and had subsequently forgot to let Charlie and Mama know that he’d made it to Bobby’s. Realizing it was probably too late now, he rolled out of bed, searched his bag for any clothes besides his greens, and plugged in his phone. Leaving his phone to charge, Castiel dressed in a pair of ragged holey jeans he found at a thrift store in Philly and a tight black t-shirt. After rinsing his face in cold water to help wake himself up and taking a piss, Castiel turned on his phone and checked the time: it was just before 12 am.

Castiel knew from years of experience that sleeping on an empty stomach would be impossible, so he took his first real glance around his sparse apartment, noticing the keys on the counter and decided to brave the unknown town in search of some sort of subsistence. He was hoping that something other than the Gas-N-Sip he saw down the road was still open.

It was after driving the mostly empty streets of Sioux falls that Castiel finally stumbled upon ‘The Roadhouse’ out off of highway 100. The Roadhouse was the only thing open at the hour, and the parking lot showed it to be the popular dive on a Saturday night. Walking up to the crowded bar, the soldier heard Led Zeppelin pouring out when the doors swung open. He could smell something heavenly being served inside. The music was louder as he snuck in the bar, dodging drunks and finding the only empty seat at the bar.

Pulling up a bar stool and catching the eye of a pretty blonde working the bar, Castiel smiled and nodded his head at the bartender when she called out to him. The blonde smiled back and made her way down to his end of the bar, the beginnings of a flirty smile on her face, before an older brunette woman stepped in her path and handed over a tray of dirty glasses to the blonde with a pointed look on her face. The brunette then made her way over to Castiel, gave him a stern look, and spoke.

“You're new here. You just passing through or you staying awhile?” she asked without preamble.

Castiel, used to commanding individuals, was not fazed by the unorthodox question from the bar tender and responded back without pause. “I’m staying a while, ma’am. Just got a job working in town and was looking for my first meal.”

A barely there smile crossed the older bartender’s face. “Oh, you must be Bobby's new stray.” She reached across the bar to shake his hand, “I'm Ellen, the owner of this fine establishment. That's my daughter, Jo. I've got a gun and she's not your type.” Ellen finished with a hard glare and a nod back at the younger bartender glowering behind her.

“Yes, Ma’am. Castiel.” He replied, with a small smile, returning her handshake and chuckling.

“Alright. Now that we have that settled,” she said as she leaned on the bar, “How about I make you one of my famous burgers, give you beer, and you take a look at the old chevy in back? She's been making a rough noise everytime I turn a corner.”

The next couple of days went the same as the night at the bar: a series of vague threats from the town folk, pseudo bribes to look at cars with mysterious sounds, and a clap on the back when he fixed them successfully. It seemed like the entirety of the town wanted to come out and gawk at the newcomer. Half of the Sioux Falls police cars suddenly needed oil changes, new fuel filters, or spark plugs. The sheriff herself came out to vet him, and seemingly finding no fault, she invited him to dinner the next week. Which was, oddly enough, at the house behind the shop.

It was during one of these seemingly redundant repairs that Castiel met the bane of his existence.

The soldier was on a crawler underneath the sheriff's own truck finishing up an oil change and tightening the bolt on the drain pan when he felt something nudging his ankle then pushing up his pant leg and licking the exposed skin. Castiel stilled for a moment, trying to process what the feeling was and then another thinking that some sort of wild animal had gotten into the garage. Unsure of what to do, Castiel stayed still, afraid to spook the animal and get his leg bitten off. A sharp, unexpected kick to the side of his leg made him jump and smash his head against the undercarriage of the truck.

Cussing and kicking, Castiel felt someone grab his leg and tug him out from under the truck. “Damn, Ash, what has gotten into….” The voice cut off as its owner stared down at the man lying on the ground. “Shit. You’re not Ash.”

Castiel glared at the sandy haired stranger. “No shit, I’m not Ash! Who the fuck are you?” He sputtered, angrily clutching his grease smeared forehead.

The blonde man reared back and replied indignantly, “Who the fuck am I? Man, who the fuck are you and what are you doing in Bobby’s shop?” The man reached out and grabbed the collar of a dark haired dog that Castiel realized was the ‘wild beast’ that licked him. The vicious dog didn’t look so wild now, with her tongue comically lolled out and her head tilted to the side, studying him.

Castiel attempted to climb to his feet, intent on giving this preppy civilian in a three piece suit a piece of his mind, but a wave of dizziness and pain knocked him back onto the ground. A moment later found Bobby and the sheriff rush into the room, getting in between the two men. As Jody crouched down to check on the the mechanic, Bobby rounded on the stranger.

“Dammit, Dean, what the hell?” He growled.

The sandy haired man, Dean, roared back “Who the hell is this guy, Bobby? And what is he doing here?”

“What the hell does it look like he's doing here, you idgit? He’s the new mechanic, or he was before you bludgeoned him.”

“I didn’t touch him, Bobby!” He snapped back.

From the floor, now clutching a dirty rag to his grease stained and bloody forehead, Castiel added “Actually, you kicked me.”

“Piss off!” Dean hissed down at him, then turning his attention back to Bobby, “Why didn’t you tell me you hired someone?”

“Because you run off every new hire before I can vet ‘em!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't hire incompetent high schoolers.”

“Well, maybe you should let me train em before you judg--”

“ENOUGH!” The sheriff bellowed “Christ, you three are like kindergarteners fighting on a playground.”

“Hey, I'm an innocent bystander here.” Castiel snarled.

“Bystander my a-”

Dean’s retort was cut off by an abrupt smack to his head.

“What did I just tell you?” the sheriff hollered, lowering her hand. “Now, I’m going to take Cas here to see Pamela and get his head checked out. He was bound to meet her sooner or later, and I guess now is as good a time as any. And you two,” pointing at the two men standing, “You two need to hash this out and get ready for dinner. Cas is the best mechanic this town has seen in years and I won't have you two bickering and running him off.”

From the floor: “He's not going to make me go anywhere.”

“Good, but I think I told you to hush.” Jody glared back at the ground.

Neither of the men standing would look at each other. They were tight lipped and tense as the sheriff helped Castiel into one of Bobby’s trucks, still not speaking to each other as they watched it wind down the dusty road to town.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was having an extremely bad day. First thing in the morning he had a meeting with the board members of the library to discuss spending and to present a new addition to the children's library. The library had a weekly reading program for early readers. The group promoted literacy in over 50 families around Sioux Falls and that number would grow if they said yes to the summer camp he was proposing at the meeting, but instead the stuffy bureaucrats said no and wanted to take away part of the group’s funding to buy more computers. 

After the debacle with the board, Dean was on edge and decided to dive into his after lunch dessert early only to find Meg's new intern shoveling the last bite of Donna's homemade, powdered sugar dusted, piece of perfection into his greedy mouth. The librarian couldn’t even say anything to the intern because the board members were still in the library and strangling a graduate student is highly frowned upon. 

Instead, Dean turned and walked out of the library with Daffy on his heals, climbed into the Impala, and just sat there with his hands gripping the wheel and his forehead resting on the wheel’s leather grip. Before this, before everything, he would have taken his car for a drive to clear his head and to work through his frustration. But now? Now he knows that even if he isn't feeling an aura, driving in such a state wouldn’t be his best move. As always, the cold nose of his favorite flower dragged him out of his self-imposed downward spiral. He straightened his shoulders, cracked his neck and prepared to go back to work. The morning had been so bad, the day couldn't get much worse at this point, could it?

It was like having that thought cross his mind had doomed him to an even more trying day. Even though he was a children's librarian, he was not immune to assisting the locals when they needed computer and printer help. Dean felt like he had spent half of his day helping people print their resumes and conquering the ever difficult task of signing onto a computer. During one of these such instances, he spent thirty minutes being yelled at by a 30-something demon queen because the ancient printer ate some ‘one of a kind’ presentation she didn't have the foresight to save on the computer. 

Finally, when 4 o'clock rolled around, Dean thought he was in the clear. He was supposed to go over to his adoptive father's house for dinner and the official meet-and-greet with his new girlfriend. Even though Jody had been sheriff in the town for two years and had been living there for almost ten, Bobby still demanded an official introduction. “Weird old coot is losing his mind,” Dean chuckled in Daffodil’s direction. The sheppard hardly responded, only opening a single eye to look in his direction before going back to ignoring him for the rest of the drive. When Dean was having a bad day, his little flower was dragged right along with him. 

Feeling sorry for her and for himself, Dean steeled himself for the family dinner and hugged her close, running his fingers through her long hair before he got out of the Impala at Bobby’s garage. Right away he noticed the classical rock pouring out of the open bay doors, and when he rounded the corner he saw long legs sticking out from under one of the sheriff's vehicles. Dean was surprised that Bobby actually got Ash to work till the end of his shift. Since no good deed can go unpunished, Dean motioned Daffy to where Ash’s pant leg had ridden up. As expected, the over eager dog went over to the man, sniffing his leg, and immediately started to lick the sweat off of the exposed leg, which went stiff at the first touch from Daffy.

Perplexed, Dean momentarily wondered what was up with Ash, then quickly assumed he was stoned while trying to fix the sheriff's car. It was a stupid move only Ash would do. Dean closed the distance to the wayward legs aiming to kick the man into movement. As soon as his pointy-toed shoes connected with the mechanic’s shin, Dean heard a crash and a muffled groan from under the truck. Thinking fast, he reached out and grabbed the man, wheeling him out from under the truck. Dean was momentarily stunned by the crystal blue eyes staring back at him instead of the bloodshot brown eyes he had expected.

The blowout that had ensued was not one of Dean’s finer moments. Looking back on it now, he felt shame well up for screaming at the bloodied stranger and for reacting so viciously towards him. Dean would never admit his guilt or the misunderstanding that started the whole fight, but being scolded like a child by Sheriff Mills was almost enough to make him crack. 

What the hell was Bobby thinking hiring a new guy from bumfuck nowhere, then allowing him to work on such an important piece of machinery as the sheriff's prize truck? The kid probably didn't know a socket wrench from a screw driver, Dean mused, even though the dark haired man was probably a little older than himself, if the bags under his eyes meant anything.

An hour after the blowout and the stare down from Bobby found Dean and Daffodil in the woods behind the house, sitting by a small stream he and Sam had discovered in their childhood. With one hand buried in the hair at her neck and the other balled into a fist on his thigh, Dean stared into the gurgling water and worked to steady his breathing. The entire day had been a shit show from the very beginning and bad days had a way of become horrible days if he didn’t work to keep himself grounded. 

This stream had always been his spot; the one place he could go that could settle his raging mind and give him an escape when life got too rough. If these woods could talk, they would tell stories of two lost boys finding themselves and finding their way. Instead, you could see the Winchester brothers’ journey carved into the landscape around them. Their initials carved into any tree that struck their fancy, the rope swing that had long since frayed, which used to carry them to the other side of the stream, a once well-worn path that was slowly being overtaken since only one brother at a time ever seemed to return. 

Now, sitting by the stream, Dean breathed deep and tried to let the anger from his earlier fight dissipate. He felt like so much of his life was spent trying to keep himself from getting worse. How was this really living? 

Closing his eyes and counting to ten, he forced himself to accept his new reality and to accept that Bobby had seemed to officially fill his position at the garage. It had been years of half-ass mechanics bringing more trouble than they were worth. He chuckled at the memory of the snake incident a few years ago, then considered that if Bobby was letting this guy touch Jody’s truck he must not be that bad. He had to have proven himself to Bobby or come with some pretty impressive references in order for that to happen. No way would Dean ever admit out loud that the guy was good, though. He still needed to prove himself to Dean. For now, Dean would let the new hire be. But only until the bleeding stopped, then he was fair game again.

Dean didn't even know what was so special about this guy anyway. He didn't look like anything spectacular, scruffy and dog tired with his hair a mess, a few days of beard scruff and bags under his eyes. Those damn suffocatingly blue eyes that even now Dean couldn't stop thinking about. He felt like this dude’s eyes were boring into his soul and almost wanted to crumble under the fury of his gaze. Almost. Dean wasn't letting some nobody run him out of the garage. The guy wouldn't be here long enough to even be remembered if Dean had his way. 

-

Two hours later found Castiel with a throbbing head, a declined dinner invitation, and texting his sister regaling the story of the preppy paper-pusher and his attempt to kill him today.

His visit with Pamela, the local doctor, had been quite the experience. Now, loaded down with pain meds and instructions to take it easy, Castiel felt almost overwhelmed with all of the new people in his life that seem to care about him. Ever since the first night at Ellen's bar, he had felt like the stray everyone had decided to take care of and torment in a familial way. He never thought he would feel comfortable anywhere after he left Missouri’s. It has been so long since he felt like he belonged...if he ever even did. Besides the one arrogant city slicker who tried to bludgeon him to death, he hadn’t met one unkind person here.

The bastard, Dean, seemed to be close with these people, too. Castiel remembered hearing his name weaved into the conversation with almost all of the new people in his life, and he now worried that his unfortunate introduction with the bespeckled pencil pusher could hurt his chances of truly being accepted into the town. At this realization, a fresh wave of anger and hatred for the man washed through him. He would be damned if he lost his home, job, and new future because of this dick. 

His anger only seemed to irritate the gash on his head and make the headache become more pronounced. And with that pain, his resolve to never waver to Dean Winchester solidified.


	4. Chapter 4

After the unfortunate circumstances surrounding the librarian and mechanic’s first meeting, three weeks followed with snide comments, dirty looks, and exasperated ‘adults’. If anyone were to look at Dean and Castiel's actions and reactions to each other they could not be seen as adult or mature in any way.

When Dean saw Castiel working on a car in the garage, he would scoff and try to prove that Castiel was incompetent and shouldn’t be working at the garage. Dean was determined to find fault in the blue eyed mechanic and no snarled words from Bobby or scathing, yet oddly erotic, looks from the Castiel would make him stop trying. There was even one memorable instance of Dean ‘tripping’ over Castiel's legs while he was under a car. That ended up worse for Dean, because unbeknownst to him, Castiel saw him coming and Dean ended up on the floor with Daffodil in his lap licking him to death. 

Castiel, for his part, kept his mouth shut and didn’t acknowledge the librarian unless he was trying to tell him how to fix a Corolla. Like Castiel didn't know how to properly change a spark plug? He had to bite his tongue and stop himself from saying that if he could repair a Humvee under enemy fire in the desert he could do a simple repair on some kid’s beater Corolla. 

But he didn’t stop the looks. Castiel took great pleasure in shooting his most fierce scowl at the librarian and watching him stumble. Castiel always knew his glares were a thing to behold, but he got fierce satisfaction out of watching Dean momentarily freeze like a deer in headlights and seeing his adam's apple bob. If he wasn't so infuriating, his doe eyes and the stretch of his sharp jaw would be sexy. Maybe. Okay, it was a little sexy. 

Castiel’s attraction to the man was almost more infuriating than the man himself. He didn't understand how he could want to punch someone just as much as he would want to fuck someone. From the outside, it looked as though Castiel had the upper hand and could silence Dean with a single look, but for himself it was like being trapped next to a sun whenever Dean was in the room. The man lit up the space around him and whenever Castiel saw him without the sneer, (which he apparently reserved for Castiel) on his face, Castiel found himself caught, like a transfixed bug heading to its death. 

Castiel hated it. All of his life he has been able to keep his ‘affliction’, his attraction to men, tightly wrapped. He learned early in life that if he allowed himself to follow his heart, that he would lose everything. Missouri wasn’t the first home he had after he became an orphan. Dick and Naomi showed him early on that if he showed the world his ‘faggot’ ways he would be left homeless and thrown away like trash. 

Plus, South Dakota may not be in the middle of the Bible Belt, but Castiel could assume his new friends and the librarian still wouldn't appreciate his thoughts and attraction. The mechanic had never seen Dean show any interest in anyone of the same sex. He watched him flirt outrageously with Jo whenever she was within 10 feet. No, the librarian was as straight as straight could be. Castiel got angry just thinking about the damn man married with kids and sweet Daffodil, living the white-picket fence, apple pie life that Castiel knew he himself would never have.

-  
Dean was going to die from sexual frustration. He hadn't gotten laid in a while. Okay, he hadn’t gotten laid since he got Daffodil. But he was seriously suffering right now, and the sex eyes ‘I'm going to fucking kill you’ looks Castiel shot him on a regular basis made his balls shrivel and his dick hard simultaneously. Damnit, his body couldn't decide whether to be terrified or to drop to his knees and beg.

They had been at war for weeks, and he felt like the mechanic could see into his very soul. With every lost battle Dean could feel the man chipping away at his resolve. He really tried to hate Castiel, but the more he learned about him the less he hated him. Sure, Dean still ribbed on him constantly and he had no plans to let up but it had turned into more of a game at this point. Less of a test of wills and a mission to run the new guy off. 

Ellen had about ripped his ear off when she found out about the little incident at the garage when he’d first met Castiel. About a week after that fateful meeting, he walked into The Roadhouse and before he had even made it up to the bar, Ellen had a hold of his ear and ripped him down to her height to scold him in front of the entire lunch crew. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy?”

“Ahh. Shit, Ellen! What the hell?” Dean called out when she grabbed him, but he quickly stopped talking, moving, and almost stopped breathing. The fires raging behind his surrogate mom’s eyes were terrifying.

The rage Ellen showed on her face dampened for a moment when she saw Dean take a big gulp, but her anger ratcheted back up when she freed his ear and started in on him.

Apparently, how he had been acting towards the new guy was unacceptable. Apparently, Dean had been causing Bobby a lot of grief over the last couple of years running off his staff, no matter how lackluster their work performance was. Apparently, it was a goddamn shameful that Dean was treating a newly released veteran with this much disrespect.

“Wait, what? A veteran?”

“Yes, you dumbass! Cas was just discharged and needed a home. How dare you try to run this boy out of his home!”

That had stopped Dean in his tracks. Not only had Ellen chastised him within an inch of his life, but now he did feel ‘damn shameful’ to have treated the guy like that. No matter whether he was a soldier or not, Dean had judged him and could have ruined the only home he had had in years.

Damn it.

Dean knew what it was like to not have a home and to nearly lose the only place you cared about. He originally went to The Roadhouse for a burger and to saite his endless appetite, but he ended up leaving with an empty stomach and feeling like he wouldn’t be eating for a while. 

He spent a long time over that weekend avoiding the auto shop. He was not avoiding the soldier, he just didn’t want to listen to Bobby gripe at him. Yeah, he was definitely not avoiding Castiel, that would be silly. But even with not avoiding him and not worrying about him, he couldn't get Castiel out of his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about all of the things that they had gone through and how shitty he had been towards the dude. Sure, he had enjoyed the mutual ribbing, but now he wasn’t so sure if he was just being cruel or not. 

So, he made a point to calm the teasing and make it more fun and less malicious. He tended to end the joke smiling and without a sneer. Honestly, the more he is around the guy the more he wants to pull his pigtails like a little girl with a crush. God, Dean was pathetic. 

He had gone from being vehemently hateful towards the dude, to nearly starry-eyed and smitten. Mixed signals much?

Not only were the guy's eyes making him feel like he should drop to his knees and beg for mercy but now, every once in awhile, Castiel smiled and Dean's knees would turn to jelly. 

Just last night they were tossing insults back and forth, then talking cars when they came back up for air to see that the garage had cleared out for the night. They ended up drinking a beer together, sitting on the back of one of the beaters Castiel had been repairing when Dean had originally arrived.

When they both realized the time and how long they had been talking, Castiel stiffened and the air grew stale. Dean looked around and saw Daffy curled up on her dog bed left by Bobby’s office. They both continued to sip their beers as the air cooled around them, and thought about the change in their relationship. Dean noticed that Castiel sat a lot stiffer and was staring off in the distance, seemingly lost in thought. 

Dean felt the tension in the air and momentarily held his breath. He thought back on how everything felt different with them, that he could almost feel the static in the air around him. If he didn't know any better, he would say it was tangible sexual tension. Dean has always known he was gay and the looks Castiel sent him after one of their fights could make his panties drop, but he wasn’t sure if the man actually meant something with those looks or if he was just always this intense. 

Dean leaned back on the windshield of the car and propped up one of his legs on the hood. He wanted to make Castiel lighten up and feel more comfortable around him now that they were actually on speaking terms. But the man glanced at him and seemed to grip his beer hard enough to shatter the bottle. He then sat up even straighter. Dean just shook his head and closed his eyes, feeling like he couldn’t crack this guy's shell. 

\--  
Castiel was fucking dying. He had to rub his chilled beer across his forehead because he felt like he was overheating. Having Dean sprawled out beside him only inches away, with his black dress pants pulled taut across his bowed legs and his shirt riding up just enough to see his pale stomach made Castiel feel like he couldn't breathe. He could feel his dick stirring and sat up straight trying to get his shirt to bunch over his waist. The man was divine, sprawled across the hood of the car like an Adonis laid out in the grungy South Dakota auto shop. It took all of Castiel's control to not reach out and touch the newly discovered skin, and to lick the sweat off of Dean’s neck. 

To stave off his urges, he stared at the wall where all of the tools were hung, naming all of them and their uses in his head. 

Continuing to make himself comfortable, Dean rested his head back on the windshield. His relaxed arm softly nudged Castiel’s thigh. The heat radiating off of that simple touch made Castiel feel like he was burning from within. He stifled a groan when Dean shifted on the car, revealing even more skin. He had to get away from the temptation before he couldn’t control himself. Jumping up from the car, Castiel strode across the room without a word, then stopped and pivoted looking towards the car and the man who was torturing his every waking, and sometimes sleeping, moment. He just stared and stared with a confused scowl. 

The other man was disturbed by the jostling of the car and the mechanic stalking across the room. He opened his eyes and rolled slightly to his right, placing his chin in the palm of his hand. He just stared back at Castiel. Dean had a look of confusion, amusement, and almosts feral intent on his face that made Castiel swallow down the lump in his throat. He needed to get out of the room, to put some space in between himself and the Adonis seemingly unintentionally offering himself to the depraved mechanic’s every wish. He would never get the picture of the man sprawled across the hood of a car out of his head. He needed to go ‘clean the pipes’ or take a cold shower before the image in his head turned to imagining the man in fewer clothes and a similar position on the hood of the black beast of a car he drove every day. He would just give an excuse. It was late, they both had work in the morning. Castiel could go just upstairs and avoid this man. But what actually came out of his mouth was the exact opposite.

“Do you want to come upstairs for another beer?” he suggested smoothly. But by the look on Dean's face after he asked, there must have been some hesitation or impression that made the question seem less friendly and more creepy than was intended. 

The other man just quirked a smile and shook his head. Climbing off of the hood of the car, Dean replied, “I think we should both get to our respective homes, it's getting late.” He then clapped a hand on his leg and Daffodil roused from her bed to pad over to her human. 

Castiel nodded his head with a look of sour disapproval on his face and looked just below face level at Dean. No response to the statement, just a silent resignation. But when he thought the interaction was over, Dean surprised him by putting a firm, warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly for a moment before walking out into the night with his canine protector at his heels. 

For hours after that one touch, and even laying in bed later that night, Castiel could feel the touch burned into his skin like a brand. 

-

The next few days were awkward between Dean and Castiel. After Dean had stayed after hours arguing and then talking with the man, he felt their relationship had shifted. He couldn’t even remember the last time he got so caught up in a conversation. The mechanic had, for once, let loose around Dean, and for a moment he could see past that gruff facade. Dean saw the passion in the man's eyes. But as soon as the Cas realized his forwardness, he closed himself off like he never had before. Hardly a word had been spoken between the two since then, and not for the lack of Dean trying. Castiel let all of his playful jibes roll off of him like they were some sort of punishment and he answered all of Dean's more friendly conversation attempts with a claim of being busy on a rushed repair. 

Honestly, Dean had felt like they could be friends or maybe something else that night. But now? Now he feels shittier than he did after Ellen’s little chat. He didn’t feel guilty, he felt abandoned, like he was pushed to the side, unneeded. It’s ironic how when this all started, he felt like Bobby had been pushing him away from the shop, but now, weeks later, he felt that Castiel deserved to be here. As though Cas had always been a part of the family and that Dean was the problem now. Everyone had pretty much assumed Castiel’s frosty attitude was Dean’s doing, and though it was, it was not for the reason they supposed.

More than once Dean had been cuffed upside the neck or given the stink eye from both Bobby and the old man’s current and past girlfriends, Jody and Ellen. Honestly, Dean knew he was an asshole, but they should know him well enough to know that his actions weren’t intentionally malicious.

But besides the cold shoulder and the death glares from his family, Dean couldn't get Castiel’s offer and the heat of his body from that night out of his head. The offer to go upstairs must have been a surprise even to Castiel, because by the end of the statement he looked like he swallowed a bug or was about to take a nose dive off of a cliff. Dean couldn't tell if they guy was in the closet or if the realization of how his offer could be interpreted freaked him out. Dean knew better than to accept, no matter how badly he had wanted to. 

The librarian had kicked himself all night for what could have come to pass. That night he had come so hard while remembering the heat he had felt under his skin when he momentarily squeezed the mechanic’s shoulder. 

But fuck, Castiel was under Dean's skin. All of the attention he wasn't giving Dean, he was giving to Daffodil. It was funny watching him trying to avoid Dean while trying to spend time with the dog. Castiel doted on her like he had never had a pet in his life. Had the man ever even had a pet in his life? So many questions Dean wanted the answers to, and every day that Dean had to navigate the wall of ice that was Castiel, he simultaneously grew a little more determined to win him over and a lot more unsure of himself.

Dean had never really been shy about his sexuality, had never been one to be afraid to chase down a lay, but with Castiel he felt like there was so much more on the line. Dean unsure of the man's sexuality, which could turn out poorly for Dean if he pushed too hard. Dean found that, yes, he wanted to fuck the guy, but he also wanted to talk to the dude. Not like bar room hook-up talk, but like future and history type talking. He found that he wanted to know what made Castiel tick and what made him break the stoic personality and moan his name. 

Essentially, Dean was pining.


	5. Chapter 5

It took about week for the awkward standoff to blow up in Castiel's face.

After a couple days of pretending that he didn’t almost proposition Dean, Castiel decided that he just needed to get laid. That would help him think straight and do away with these unnatural and unattainable desires. 

Hell, it had been over a year since he had last been with anyone and the drunken groping and mutual orgasms with the female officer really didn’t count. They had been too shit faced to even remember each other's names in the morning. But sex is sex and it’s really been too long since Castiel had gotten laid. 

After the last interaction, where Dean had looked at him forlornly, like a jilted lover and asked him why he was being so weird, Castiel had almost confessed his long-held secret and made a fool out of himself. That man could convince a nun she was a liar with the sad eyes he’s seemed to have perfected. Instead of bowing to his attraction, Castiel decided to fight it. He decided that tonight would finally be the night he returned to The Roadhouse, this time for more nefarious reasons than simple compay.

 

A few hours later found himself doing just that. The mechanic had taken care while showering and dressing for the evening. His hair was combed and styled , he left the five o’clock shadow, but made sure to wear the cologne Charlie had sent him. He was dressed in his nicest jeans and a black button up with the sleeves rolled. Since he had been able to pick his own attire outside of the army, he has leaned towards more holey jeans, t--shirts, flannel and boots. Tonight, though, he wore the one outfit he owned sans grease stains. 

As luck would have it, or maybe a cruel fate, when Castiel sat down at the bar and ordered his first drink, a familiar baritone laugh came from the back corner of the room. Steeling himself and trying to be inconspicuous, Castiel looked over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions about who was present. And yep, just his luck, Dean was sitting in the corner with his arm slung over Jo’s shoulder as a long haired man looked on in fond amusement. Scoffing to himself, Castiel realized his ultimate stupidity in thinking that Dean was single. The man in question was dressed more casually than Castiel had ever seen him. From the looks of it, he had a white graphic t-shirt under a slate grey over shirt and jeans. The man looked fucking edible. Castiel whipped his head back to face the bar and grumble to himself.

Of course he was with someone, someone close to home obviously, and again obviously a woman.

Castiel scowled at himself and clutched his whisky closer. He would have to find another bar, he decided. Ellen and Jo were great, but Cas was stupid to think of coming to a bar where he knew people to try to pick someone up. Plus, how was he supposed to get over his ‘feelings’ or ‘sexual confusion’ when the subject of his confusion was mere feet away. No, Castiel would leave and try the next town over. 

Shaking his head he shot back the rest of his whisky, threw a few bucks on the bar and turned to leave with his tail between his legs. He turned right into a familiar blonde. In the time it had taken for Castiel to fight with himself and finish his drink, Jo had slipped from Dean’s grasp and come over for the next round of drinks. The surprise and joy on her face at seeing Castiel made him realize that he would not be making the quick exit he’d planned. 

“Cas!” The blonde exclaimed as she jumped up and hugged him.

Castiel had to catch her as she all but threw herself into his arms. When he let her down, her fun demeanor shifted. He got a punch square in his shoulder, and a scowl. “Why didn't you tell anyone you were coming up here? Nobody likes to drink alone.” She stated like it was a fact of the universe.

Castiel cleared his throat and responded coyly, “Well I was just coming in for one drink and I’m just about to go,” he finished hooking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door. He was thinking about making a run for it but Jo saw his flight instinct and before he could even take a step she was shoving two beers in his hands and dragging him towards the one corner of the bar he has been avoiding looking at. 

“Don’t be dumb, Cas. It's Friday and the night has just begun,” she called out over her shoulder. 

Awkward would not even begin to explain the next few moments at the bar. When Jo and Castiel reached the table it was to Dean and the unknown man looking up with radiant smiles at Jo, followed by a bewildered expression from the stranger and pure terror from the librarian when they noticed Castiel. It was like the smile was slapped off of Dean’s face, and everyone at the table noticed the tension that seemed to snap into place. 

The new man broke the tension with a clearing of his throat and extended his hand to Castiel. “Hey, I’m Sam Winchester.” Castiel shook Sam's hand, introducing himself in a shy manner and not looking towards where he could feel Dean's hot, focused gaze coming from. Unnoticed beside him, Jo was looking back and forth between the mechanic and the librarian, ideas and questions forming in her head.

Jo finally kicked Dean in the shin to break his attention and get him to move out of her seat. As he slid over towards where Cas and Jo were standing he finally greeted the new arrival.”Cas.” he grunted. 

Castiel was not one to be rude and could find no immediate way out of this situation, so hw nodded his head in Dean's general direction in greeting and said “Hello, Dean”. This seemed to break the tension at the table and Dean shot up out of his seat, patting his leg for Daffy. 

“I think we need drinks,” he declared. 

“But, we just got drinks Dean…” Sam responded, clearly confused.

“Yeah we got beer. I think we need shots. Hell, I need whisky,” he said the last part under his breath, but Castiel heard it and huffed a small laugh, finally looking Dean’s way. 

“Grab me a glass when you come back,” he smiled in the man's direction and then scooted into the round booth to sit next to Jo. The trio chatted about the night and little, unimportant things while Dean climbed the bar and snagged four glasses and a full bottle of whisky while Ellen had her back turned. He was halfway across the bar, lifting his treasure to show the group when a wet rag sailed straight into the back of his head. The table laughed as Ellen hollered a warning from the bar. 

Dean's goofy actions and the first shot broke most of the tension at the table, but Castiel quickly realized what kind of position he had put himself into by sitting next to Jo. Not only was he trapped in the center of the table with no quick exit, but he was also pressed up against Dean, hip to thigh. Every drink had Dean’s arm rubbing against Castiel's. He had never known such an innocent touch could drive him to distraction. It was during their second shot, when they were still all just having small talk and the group had a little bit of wariness about it that Castiel realized his mistake and his chance at an escape. He had stupidly been sitting next to Dean, enjoying his warmth and the feel of his thigh pressed against his own when he realized he was also rubbing elbows with Dean's girlfriend. 

As Castiel almost coughed up his second shot in realization, Dean didn’t even seem to hesitate in putting his right hand on Castiel’s left arm and patting his back to make sure he wasn't choking. “Shit, dude. It’s just whisky, don’t die on me,” Dean muttered. 

Through his coughing Castiel replied, “Shit, Dean...do you want to sit...next to your girlfriend?” Suddenly the hand patting his back stilled in the middle of his spine and the hand on his arm tightened. Silence had overtaken the table after his question. Castiel looked up into Dean's bright green eyes saw confusion. He quickly looked over at Jo, just now realizing she was half seated in Sam's lap, with his arm folded around her shoulders. All at once, the other three occupants of the table burst out laughing. Sam threw his head back and Jo smacked Castiel on the shoulder. Dean just laid his head down on the hand that was still grasping Castiel's arm and heaved a huge shaking laugh that rocked Castiel to his core. 

Castiel, for his part, just sat in shock looking at the couple wrapped around each other. How had he missed that? He’d been sitting at the table for near on 15 minutes but having Dean so close had distracted him more than he had even realized. Castiel blushed, hung his head, and let out a little chuckle of his own. 

This man was a distraction, and he was apparently also single. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Castiel turned towards the man who had been haunting his dreams just as the same man lifted his head off of his shoulder. Dean's laughter stopped like his breath was stolen and Castiel's might as well have gone right along with him because he was in awe of the green eyes that were mere inches from his. It was like the world stopped around them. They both just sat still and stared into each other's eyes. It seemed like Castiel could see straight into Dean's soul, and when the man licked his lips, his eyes darted to the little slip of pink that poked out and then back to the eyes that had widened and darkened in realization...and desire.

A discreet cough from the other side of the table broke the staring contest and both men leaned back. Castiel clutched at his beer and downed it like he was drowning. 

“Dude, Cas, I'm gay,” Dean laughed as Castiel almost choked on his drink (again), gaping at him. 

“Yeah and Jo’s dating the better looking brother.” Sam added. 

“The smarter brother, not the better looking one. Can it, moose,” Dean snarked back. Castiel saw Sam's face morph into a scowl that looked like he was about to start an hour long rebuttal when Jo saved the day yet again by pushing another shot into his hands and winked at Cas. 

After that revelation, the night seemed to take a more comfortable turn. Long gone was the small talk and uncertainty. Where it once was was drunken jeers, it was now funny stories and a glimpse into the childhood of the two brothers and their pseudo-sister turned love. Castiel sat through it all laughing and drinking with them while thinking about how how his first impressions of the librarian were false and every assumption he had made after that was quickly flying out the window.

It was during a particular descriptive story from Jo and Sam about finding Dean in bed with the high school quarterback and their realization he was gay, that Cas realized that his daydreams actually had a chance. He had never thought he could have a man, and definitely not this man. But now it seemed like anything was possible. That realization was half terrifying and half exhilarating. 

-  
God, the night had not been what Dean had expected. Two hours in, Castiel was by his side, their fight seemed to be over, and everyone was on their way to happily plastered. By the look of his little brother, he was already there. Jo had managed to put his long ass hair up in two ridiculous buns. Dean laughed at the sight and snapped a picture for future blackmail purposes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard. Drinking with Sam and Jo was always fun, but it was also always a bit lonely. Having Cas there seemed to even out the playing field a bit. 

To say that Dean was shocked when Jo came back with Castiel in tow would be an understatement. Dean and Sam had literally just finished talking about the man while she collected drinks and it was like speaking his name had summoned him. Originally, they had only gone out for a quick drink. He just needed to unwind from the week of hell dealing with the mechanic. But one drink turned into a night on the town and everything seemed to be turning on its head. Dean never thought he would actually get the chance to talk to Castiel like this again, to see the man’s unbridled enthusiasm when he was within 10 feet of Dean. 

And the fact that Castiel thought that he and Jo were dating? That was the funniest thing he had heard all day. How he had even come up with that idea Dean would never know. Dean had thought it was pretty obvious with the flirty teasing in the garage that he was interested in Castiel, but apparently either the man had a thick skull or else Dean was losing his touch. If he wanted to be honest with himself, which he rarely was, Dean kind of thought the cold shoulder was because of his flirting. He’d had it happen more than once after he had shown interest in someone. But if the reaction to finding out he was gay and the pupil-dilating look at Dean's lips was anything to go by, it wasn't much of a problem. 

And the shots kept flowing, the people at the table just got looser, and the slight accidental touches from his right side became more frequent and less like accidents.

It was well past midnight and almost time for last call when Castiel rocked Dean's world. They were sitting and listening to Jo tell horror stories from bar shifts gone bad with Sam slumped on her shoulder (what a light weight) when Castiel rested his hand on Dean's knee. It's like his world stopped spinning momentarily. Dean sucked in a quick deep breath and stared down at the hand resting on his knee. His eyes quickly swung from the hand to the ebony haired man's eyes, questioning and confused. 

“Dean, could you let me out? I need to hit the head?” Castiel questioned and then stiffened at the flabbergasted look at Dean's face. His eyes then quickly glanced down at the hand resting on Dean's thigh and Dean watched him snatch his hand back like it was on fire. He must have only then realized where his hand had landed and how it could be interpreted. 

Dean watched him blush and almost cave into himself from embarrassment and what looked like shame. The man wouldn't even look in his eyes as he slid out of the booth and walked quickly to the back of the bar.

After he slid back into the booth by himself, it took Dean a minute to realize that the duo across from him was staring at him with looks of concern and humor. 

“What?” Dean questioned, annoyed with the nosy pair. 

“God, you two are freaking clueless!” Dean watched Jo smirk from across the table like she knew a secret that she couldn't decide if she wanted to share with him. Dean could instantly feel his hackles rise, and had very little interest in hearing the blonde’s teasing. 

“Out with it, Jo. You have something to say?” He bit out, squaring his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight. 

Instead of continuing to tease, he could see her soften and almost whisper, ”Damn, Dean, you really don't know do you?” She shook her head and continued, “Dude, Cas has been flirting with you all night. I know you think he's straight, but no one acts that smitten and stares that hard if they don't want you.” 

Dean's eyes widened and he was quick to correct her, to give an explanation for the mechanic’s actions, when he paused and thought back on all of the ‘accidental’ touches and the times they seemed to get lost in each other’s eyes. 

And just like that he needed to know. He pushed up from the booth and started walking towards the back of the bar, he had to know. He had to confront him, he had to... 

Suddenly Sam's arm shot out and grabbed him as he went rushing past. Dean whipped his head up to see Sam mouthing Be careful while giving him a concerned look before letting him go. Staring at his brother, Dean took a deep breath, centered himself, clapped for Daffodil, and started his walk back towards answers, feeling more centered but still full of so many questions.

He knew what he would do. He was going to confront Castiel and be gentle, but blunt. He didn't want to scare the guy, but he needed answers. The last few weeks had been hell. Already they had gone through so many ups and downs that Dean felt like he was on a never ending rollercoaster. Of which, right now he was on the summit. He knew that this moment and Castiel's reaction would be akin to taking a nose dive down the hill. It was up to the other man whether he would crash or fly, but even with the possible danger Dean had to know. 

As he rounded the corner to the hallway where the bathrooms were, all of his careful planning and his gentle confrontations flew out of his mind. As he rounded the corner, Castiel walked out of the bathroom and all Dean registered were blue eyes. He felt the air almost forced out of his lungs. Both of the men froze with their eyes locked on each other. 

\----

It continued to be an enlightening night for Castiel. He had learned more about the real Dean tonight than he had in the last months of teasing and heckling combined. How could he have ever thought this man was bad? Dean was kind, funny, and had all of the qualities to break Castiel's heart. With every smile and every brush of his elbow, Castiel could feel his walls crumbling and felt like his heart was beating out of his chest.

He couldn't control his hands. Dean had made the first move, grabbing his arm while Cas choked. Then, it seemed like the dam had broken. Castiel lost count of the amount of times he had touched Dean tonight. All of the touches were innocent, but with so many instances he couldn't see how Dean hadn't told him to stop or shown his disgust in some way. With every touch that was allowed, Castiel became more addicted to them. He felt his entire night revolve around Dean's skin under his hand and every time he had to admonish himself for his dirty thoughts and urges. God what he wouldn't give to run his hands across Dean's exposed collar bone, to feel the lines of his jaw, and to feel those bowed legs wrapped around his waist. He almost had to sit on his own hands to keep himself in check.

The drinks continued to flow and the inhibitions continued to drop. What felt like five minutes after he joined the group, but what must have actually been hours later, Castiel could ignore the call of his bladder no longer. Without a thought he laid his hand, once again, on Dean to get his attention, but what changed about this one touch was the reaction from the man next to him. His shock and confusion were apparent on his face and the realization of his actions, that he had allowed himself to really touch Dean, hit Castiel like a ton of bricks. He couldn't get away fast enough. He shuffled out of the booth, avoiding all eye contact and almost ran down a waitress in his rush to leave the regret behind. 

 

The bathroom was blissfully empty. Castiel wasn't sure if he could confront even a stranger right now and the quiet of the room allowed him to try to calm his racing thoughts. After emptying his bladder, Castiel washed his hands and looked hard into the mirror. He tried to recognize the man staring back. The man in the mirror was nothing like the boy he remembered himself to be. He was not the faaggot from podunk Kansas who was thrown away. He looked into the mirror and saw a man, a soldier, a friend, and for the first time since he could remember, he almost liked who stared back at him. 

When he first rushed from the table he assumed that his touches were not welcome; that no one like Dean would want to feel reject like Castiel’s hands on him. But there had been no disgust in Dean’s eyes. Castiel saw surprise, confusion, and maybe the fires of desire in those wild green eyes. 

Castiel smashed his palms down on the sink, the sting under his skin almost felt like a forest fire raging up his arms, but no matter how hard he hit the porcelain, the desire to keep touching a man would not cease. He felt his emotions and desires like a hurricane inside of his chest. Disgust and yearning, the beginnings of feeling and the fear of those desires. 

Castiel looked up again at his reflection and knew that he needed to make a decision. He had to either allow these feelings to overtake him, or he needed to leave. He either had to deny the filthy thoughts that overwhelmed him, or he needed to accept that this is who he is. Consequences and all, he had to decide. 

After a few moments, he realized that he had spent too much time hiding in the bathroom and he would need to face Dean soon. He couldn't stay in here all night. Even if he wasn't sure what he wanted to do, he couldn't string Dean along like this. He splashed some water on his face and brushed his wet fingers through his hair, hoping that cold and shock would clear some of the whisky-induced dredge from his brain. He walked out of the bathroom on a mission. 

That mission was cut short when the object of his desire blocked his path before he could even take two steps into the hallway. Dean looked petrified and determined all at the same time. They both seemed to have lost any words as soon as they saw each other. It felt like hours of them just staring as the bar patrons drank outside the little hallway that had become their impromptu haven.

\----  
They were at a stand still. They stood and stared into each other's eyes like they were drowning and the other man was water. Dean wasn’t sure who moved first, or who kissed who. All he knew is that one minute he was staring and the next he was pressed back against the hallway wall with a thigh between his legs. He was clinging on for dear life as Castiel kissed him like he was air itself. It was dizzying and thrilling and with each hot press of his lips and the slip of his tongue, Dean could feel himself getting harder and more desperate. Dean needed to be underneath this man, to be at his mercy and to feel the tanned skin on his. 

Castiel rubbed his thigh against Dean’s hard cock, and Dean threw his head back in a groan before he tried to take control of the kiss, lightly sucking the other man's tongue and tasting the whisky on his breath. Dean thought it had been going well, this wet, hot kiss, and the near frontage in public. But then Castiel went and had to let his head into the situation.

“This is wrong…” Cas breathed out into the kiss.

“What's so wrong about it, huh?” Dean answered back, biting Castiel's bottom lip gently until he moaned. 

“These feelings,” Castiel laid a nipping, biting kiss against Dean's mouth “being ga...being gay. It’s wrong, it's a sin!” He heard Castiel gasp out, clenching his eyes shut like he could block out the negative thoughts. 

Frustration and a burning need to make Castiel understand swept through Dean, “So, you think I’m a sinner?” The word sin was hissed against the mechanics lips, as Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, staring into his grief stricken face. “Do you think I am horrible and wrong?” The end of the sentence was kissed down his sharp jaw, brushing against the stubble, wishing he could feel it on his chest, thighs, really anywhere on his body.

At the last word, Castiel gripped Dean's hair tight, startling him and pulling him back up to look him in the eye. Staring into Dean's soul with such conviction and fury he could almost see the fires of hell, Castiel believed himself damned to burning in his eyes. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, Dean Winchester!” He hissed. Dean almost felt pity for the beautiful man in front of him, that he couldn't see his worth. Dean had been there, so many years ago, when he was told he was a freak, that there was something wrong with him and his orientation. But Castiel had to see, he had to know that those thoughts were wrong. He was no more damaged than the people who lorded over him and made him believe it in the first place. 

“Then why do you damn yourself when we are both feeling the same? Why do you believe the lies that whoever fucked you up forced into your head?” He slid his hand from around Castiel's neck up the arm still clutched in his hair and grasped at Castiel's shoulder, branding him with fire and passion. “Why is this a sin?” he stared into the mechanic’s desperate eyes in front of him, feeling the whisky burning through his blood. 

At this point, there were scant inches between the two men, but there might has well have been miles. Dean could see the turmoil roiling in Castiel's eyes. He looked so grief stricken and sickened at himself, but Dean could also see the glimmer of hope. That hope is what prodded Dean to run his hands back up Castiel's arm to where he had gripped Dean’s hair tight. That glimmer of a chance made him take the first step and close the distance once and for all between their lips. This kiss was like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was hard but almost chaste. He could feel Castiel's shock and the waves of grief pouring out of him as their lips touched. Dean held strong, he just continued to kiss the man, small, light, and chaste kisses and with each touch of their lips he could almost see Castiel’s shields breaking down. 

They could have this, with every kiss Dean breathed a new life into Castiel.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160369388@N08/26785599209/in/dateposted-public/)


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel was stunned. Stunned by the confession from Dean, the feeling behind his words, and the intensity in his gaze. He almost wanted to shrink back from the fire in his eyes. Castiel had never felt so lost in his life, so conflicted. This man was offering him everything he ever thought he could not have, all he never thought he deserved. He was being given a chance. 

Dean must have seen something reflected back in Castiel’s eyes, because suddenly he was kissing him again. Soft, meaningful presses of his lips which held more meaning than any passionate or hard kiss they had shared before. He kissed Castiel once, twice, three times. Again and again, more and more. Now having had a taste of him, Castiel could never have enough of it, of his taste, his passion. Dean was everywhere, gripping him tight, suddenly kissing him harder, deeper and Castiel was consumed by him, couldn’t get enough of him. He was dying from this urgent need he’d never known before. 

Someone loudly clearing their throat finally pulled the men back to the reality of their compromised position. Pulling his lips from Dean’s was like torture, but seeing Sam staring back at them with his eyebrow cocked and a smirk on his face was like a bucket of cold water dumped over their heads. Cas whipped his head back around to see Dean beat red, embarrassed. Castiel felt cold knives of regret in his chest and tried to pull away. Of course Dean didn't mean it. He was embarrassed by the situation; he doesn't want the world to know he was kissing a deadbeat like Castiel. 

Castiel urgently tried to pull away and not look back into Dean's eyes, determined not to see the disgust he was sure was there. But no matter how much Cas squirmed, Dean would not let his arm go. Dean reached out and grabbed his face, forcing Castiel to look into his eyes. Where Cas was certain there would be disgust, there was only determination.

“Cas, I don’t regret this. I don’t hate you, and I'm not gonna stop kissing you,” Dean said sternly, placing a quick kiss to the corner of Cas’s mouth. “Sam just startled me and I realized I was basically humping your leg in a bar while my dog watched from the sidelines. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you,” he finished with a soft smile. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas whispered back, feeling embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction. Dean had just assured him moments ago that he cared, and at the first chance Cas didn’t believe him.

Finally releasing Cas, Dean leaned down once again and placed a light kiss on his cheek and squeezed his hand. “Come on, I think we've had to much to drink and should get out of here. I don’t want to go any further with this much whisky in me and without a sober ‘yes’ from you.” He rumbled into Cas’s ear. 

“I think I know when I can and cannot handle something, Dean Winchester.” Cas snapped back, feeling annoyance leak into the words at being treated like an unseasoned child.

Dean just laughed and shook his head, pulling Cas out of the hallway with their hands still entwined. They passed all of the other drunk partiers and made it back to the booth where Sam must have snuck off to during their heart to heart. Jo sat smirking behind her drink. 

“Have a nice chat boys?” Jo questioned with an air of curiosity like she didn't already hear about their teenage make-out session from Sam. At least from his view Dean looked freshly fucked with his gelled hair all mussed and swollen lips. Castiel knew he could either continue to be embarrassed and potentially hurt the budding thing with Dean or he could give Jo some of her own snark back. Cas was never one to back down from a challenge. 

“Why yes, Joanna Beth, it was quite educational. Perhaps Sam could teach you after we leave.” Cas said with an almost innocent smile on his face. There was dead silence at the table for all of three seconds before he heard Dean roar with laughter. Castiel felt his head rest on his shoulder, shaking with amusement. Sam’s face went so red it had to have hurt and Jo snorted in an affronted manner. Cas threw a quick smirk at the group, thought screw it, and leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Dean's head. 

Soon after, the group disbanded. With one final kiss from Dean and a promise to see him at the shop on Monday, Castiel crawled into a cab. Even later on that night, laying in bed, he couldn’t get the phantom feeling of Dean’s lips out of his head.

\---

Sunday seemed simultaneously like the longest day of Castiel's life and all too quick at the same time. He and Dean had not exchanged phone numbers before they left the bar knowing that they would see each other again on Monday, but that did nothing to quell the uncertainty in his mind. 

Even though the shop was closed on Sundays for ‘family shit’ as Bobby explained it, Cas still found himself under a car tinkering away with his hands stained with grease before 10 in the morning. People were difficult, feelings were an awful mess, but cars he got. Cars and engines and machines were the one thing he could depend on not to surprise him. He could always lose himself in an engine. 

\----

 

Waking up early on a Sunday was the bane of Dean's existence. Take into account that he woke up with a pulsing migraine, Daffodil wouldn't stop crying, and he had to be sociable all day, and Dean's day was shaping up to be one for the record books. He debated just rolling over and giving up on the day before it began, but thoughts of the night before and the realization that Cas was within walking distance of Bobby's house helped make up his mind to at least give the day a try. 

When he went to bed last night, he felt like the world was at his feet, like he and Castiel might have a chance. He couldn’t remember the last that time he smiled so much, and he realized now how empty his life had been feeling lately. He felt like he had been on an endless loop with no escape. He loved his job and he loved his family, but there has to be more to life.

With the thoughts of Castiel and the doubts about his life swirling through his head, Dean hauled himself out of bed, rushed through his more morning ablutions, and rushed himself and Daffy out the door, never realizing that in his distraction he missed one key step of his routine. 

All through the day, Dean's migraine never wavered. It was just a dull ache at the back of his skull; its constant presence putting a sharp edge to the day he was spending with his family. All of Sam's knowing looks annoyed him more than was reasonable, Bobby’s gruff attitude and the cuff when he snapped at him made him feel like he could cry. The man wasn’t any more stern than any other day but it seemed like Dean's patience was worn thin and all he wanted to do was escape. 

He thought just knowing Castiel was nearby and that they could run into each other would be enough for him to make it through the day, but Dean felt like every moment he spent with his family was suffocating. He longed for the calm atmosphere that radiated off of Cas. He had no intention of barging in on the man today but as lunch drew nearer, the thought of having Jo and Jody added to the familial mix pushed him to seek out the mechanic and some sense of calm before the maylee of lunch. Maybe he could even convince Cas to join them. He knew they weren’t supposed to see each other until Monday, but that seemed like forever in Dean's pain-addled mind. 

While Sam was distracted making a god awful kale salad in the kitchen and Bobby was taking a call from one of his hunting buddies in the other room, Dean started to make his escape. As he got up to leave, Daffodil raised her head to look after him and started to follow him out the door, but with a wave of his hand and a silent command he told her to stay. He was only going to be gone a few minutes and he didn’t want to take the chance of her getting greasy. The last time he brought her into the shop when it was closed she had gone exploring and had come back looking like a golden skunk with a line of black grease maring her clean fur and tongue lolling out to the side like she was the queen of the universe. It had taken two baths and endless patience to wash the black from her fur and Dean just didn’t have it in him today.

With the sound of her soft cries behind him, Dean slipped from the house and walked with a purpose to the garage across the property. The closer he got, the more a feeling of dread overtook him. What if Castiel wasn’t here? What if he didn’t want to see Dean? He scoffed and shook his head and continued walking. He wasn't sure where the doubt and uncertainty was coming from. He and Cas were friends. Even if Cas decided the kiss was too much, they could still continue to be friends and work things out. “Stop being a chicken shit, Winchester,” he whispered to himself as he reached the door to the garage. Leaning against the door for a quick breath to get his bearing after his moment of uncertainty and the now splitting migraine, Dean heard soft music through the door and silently swung the door open to a scene almost from his memories. 

Just like the first time they met, Dean could see Castiel's legs sticking out from underneath one of the cars and could hear the clinking of tools on the undercarriage. Unlike last time, now Dean had learned his lesson and didn’t want to scare the man into another concussion. The thought of that first nightmare meeting made him chuckle and call out to the man. 

“Heya, Cas.” 

He saw the man's legs stiffen momentarily and then watched as he pulled himself out from underneath the beater Volvo. Each second showing another glorious inch of his sweating, grease-covered, toned physique. The man was dressed down in a grease-stained grey beater, holey jeans and had a stain of grease across his forehead streaking into his disheveled hair. Inside, Dean gave a small chuckle at the similarities between Daffodil and Cas, before his eyes got lost in the crystal blue depths of the man below him. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel finally responded, his voice rough from disuse and his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips like he was thinking about how they felt on his. 

Seeing this, Dean licked his lower lip, getting lost in the moment then had to shake himself out of his self-imposed daydream when he realized that Castiel was now standing in front of him with a questioning look on his face. Not knowing how long he had been zoned out for, or if the other man had asked him a question, Dean decided to just bulldoze straight into why he was here. “You wanna meet my family?” he said with a cock-sure smirk on his face. He watched as Cas momentarily recoiled in confusion then repeated his question. 

“Do I want to meet your family? Dean, I work for your Dad and we were out drinking with your brother last night. I think I already know your family,” he finished with a soft laugh and a sparkle in his eye. 

Dean laughed at the man's comment and continued, “Hey man, don't make this harder on me than it needs to be. Come have lunch with me and we can make out afterwards.” This caused a guffaw of laughter from Castiel and the man covered his face rubbing at his eyes while he laughingly responded. 

“Yes, Dean. I’d like to meet your family-” 

“-and make out afterwards,” Dean interrupted. 

Castiel lowered his hands under his eyes and finished in a mocking voice, “and make out afterwards.” Dean watched him catch a glimpse of his hand on his face after he finished talking and the man grimaced. “Maybe I should go wash up a bit before. Give me five minutes and I'll be ready to meet your family.” He said with a smile and a quick almost nonexistent kiss to Dean's forehead. Dean watched the man spin away and make his way up stairs to the apartment above. 

In all of that time, his headache had begun to strengthen and the thought of actually eating lunch was becoming less appealing. Maybe he could convince Cas to eat quick, then come lay down with him in his bedroom upstairs. Sure it would be embarrassing for the guy to see all of his nerdy shit from when he was a teenager littering the room, but the man would have to get used to Dean's oddities eventually if he was going to stay around. 

A wave of something wrong hit Dean like a ton of bricks; flooding his mind, weighing on him. He all but fell back against the wall behind him and clutched at it to prevent him from sagging to the floor. He could hear Castiel upstairs rummaging around but he couldn't seem to make his voice work and his limbs felt like lead. As quickly as it came, the weird sensation passed and Dean found himself breathing heavily while trying to regain his balance. He knew that feeling and he shouldn't have left Daffodil at Bobby’s. He knew this was just the beginning and he needed someone, anyone. A wave of panic overtook him and before he could even get his strength back to call out, the feeling came again. This time it didn’t stop. This time he couldn't hold himself up, and he felt himself falling. Suddenly, all he knew was darkness. The pain didn’t even register as he seized. It seemed to go on forever. 

\-----  
Castiel was lost in his work hours later. When he was working on an engine, he had singular focus and he had fine tuned himself to not hear explosions going on around him when he was in the field, so it was definitely a surprise to hear the familiar voice call out to him from the garage. That surprise was transient. Then, he had to control his enthusiasm to see the man who had been haunting his every thought and wheel himself out from underneath the rust bucket he was working on. And wasn't Dean a sight to see? The man's hair was more disheveled than he had ever seen it, dressed down in another pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a green flannel that brought out his eyes rolled up to the elbows. His eyes though, they seemed tired and strained. No matter how tired Dean looked, he was still beautiful, but his weariness concerned Castiel. He then looked down at his plump lips that were shaped in a small smile and Castiel had never wanted to kiss someone more than he did at that moment.

Being invited to lunch was a surprise, but Castiel didn’t want to miss any chance to spend time with the blonde haired man. The prospect of kissing him almost made him forget how utterly wrecked he was from working. With a quick kiss and a promise to return shortly, he ran up the stairs. Looking into the mirror and realizing that he would need more than just a quick wash of his hands, Castiel stripped down, scrubbing himself nearly raw with a wet rag and re-dressed in clean jeans and a blue t-shirt, thankfully with no holes and minimal smell. 

Honestly, he felt so lucky that he had this chance. Yeah, he knew Bobby and Sam but only as the mechanic from the shop. Now, he was Dean's...boyfriend? Partner? Guy he kisses on occasion? He was not entirely sure, but he wanted to face this head on. He didn’t want his negative thoughts or shitty upbringing to hold him back from being happy. Looking himself over once more in the mirror, he grabbed the flannel hanging on the chair by the door and made his way back downstairs to where Dean was waiting for him. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs and finished straightening the collar of his overshirt, he looked up to a seemingly empty garage. The door was still open from when Dean came in but from where he was standing, he couldn’t see Dean. Confused, he moved towards the door and called out Dean’s name gently, wondering if he had traveled further into the garage in the time it took Castiel to get changed. Not seeing him, Cas made his way around the car he had been working on and stopped short. For the longest second of his life, Castiel's world stood still and his breath stopped. 

Dean was laying on the ground, monstrous tremors running through his body and pain etched across his face. The next second Castiel sprang into action. He ran toward the other man with all of his basic triage training from the army flooding to the forefront of his mind, taking control of his actions. He grabbed the seizing man, rolling him to his side and ripped off the flannel he had just put on and bundled it up under Dean's head. His next breath had him dialing 911 almost screaming the address to the dispatcher and then whispering soothing words to Dean as he watched the man seize. He waited for what seemed like an eternity until the sound of sirens filled the air.


	7. Chapter 7

The next few minutes after he first heard the sirens were a blur. One second he was alone with Dean, then there were EMTs pulling him aside, a frantic Sam rushing into the garage, and questions. So many questions. 

Then, just like that they were all gone.

Castiel was alone, and Sam and Dean were in the back of an ambulance rushing away from him. He just stood there in shock. The adrenaline from seeing Dean on the ground had brought him standing in the middle of the garage covered in sweat and slightly shaking, while the scene replayed in his mind in slow motion. He didn’t know how long he stood there, just staring at the crumpled up flannel he had used to prop up Dean’s head, before a firm hand on his shoulder snapped him out of the haze and brought him sharply back into the present. 

It ended up being Bobby who drove Castiel to the hospital. The man didn't even question it. He just took a hold of Castiel's shoulder and led him back to the beat up pick-up truck he had been using since his arrival in Sioux Falls. He walked in a daze through the emergency room doors. He heard Bobby's gruff voice ask after Dean, and he sat in the plastic waiting room chair when the older man nudged him forward. Castiel had so many questions running through his head and so many realizations that it made him dizzy. The adrenaline had all but worn off and in its place came a bone weary exhaustion and worry. 

How could this happen, and why did Bobby seem so calm? Had this been a thing, was this why Dean had Daffodil? He should have realized that she was a service dog. In the back of his mind, he knew it, but it never really clicked that she wasn't just his companion, that she was always with Dean for an actual reason. 

“Fuck.” He breathed out, leaning down and clutching his head in overwhelmed agony.

An hour later, they finally received some news in the form of one worn-out Winchester brother. After what seemed like forever, Castiel looked up from his hands in defeat into the hazel eyes of the brother of the man he was falling for. 

“Hey guys. Dean's sleeping now, he's alright.” Sam said gently as he bent down to look into Castiel's eyes. “He had a pretty bad seizure at the shop and they are worried he might have another so they are going to keep him overnight for observation, but he's okay.” He said these last words as he placed a strong hand on Castiel's shoulder, and it wasn't until that moment that he realized that there were tears in his eyes in he was shaking. “You did good Cas, you helped him,” with one finally clap of his shoulder, Sam turned away to Bobby. Discreetly as possible Castiel wiped his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. Cas heard Sam and Bobby discussing what happened in low tones. All he could make out were a few words of the sentences, as he tried not to let his panic overwhelm him again. “Been a while… almost as bad as after the accident… Daffodil was at the house…” and Castiel's name thrown in in a hushed tone.

Castiel tried not to panic and overthink it, but doubt and guilt began to leach into his mind. How long had Dean been suffering alone downstairs? Should Castiel have noticed something was off? Dean seemed a little more ruffled than usual, maybe more exhausted and pushy, but Cas initially dismissed it when he felt the tell tale reminder of his own hangover thumping at the back of his brain. He just felt like he should have known. He should have been able to see Dean suffering, should have noticed something was wrong before he abandoned him in that damn garage.   
\---------

Hours later found Castiel sitting in the hospital room with Sam, who was clutching a cup of coffee like it held the secrets of the universe, and a still slumbering Dean. Bobby had left once Dean was moved into a private room with Daffodil. The silence permeating the room was near stifling. Castiel couldn't find it in himself to ask, and Sam looked to be teetering between spilling their life history and asking Castiel to leave.

After what seemed like forever of the stagnant stalemate in the oppressive hospital room, Castiel registered a change in Sam, in how he held himself, and watched him look from the door to Dean's prone form multiple times before rubbing his red rimmed eyes and finally looking Castiel in the eye. Cas assumed he was being given the axe, that he had finally overstayed his welcome and that Sam would tell him to leave and never see Dean again. He could stay strong. He could do what Sam asked and get up like a good soldier and march out the door to lick his wounds in private. He hated it. Hated even thinking about walking away from Dean, but he would do anything for the man Castiel realized. He would do anything for him even if that meant walking out of that door forever and losing one of the first and only places he felt like he truly belonged. Sitting up straighter in the uncomfortable hospital chair and forcing his shoulders back, Castiel waited for the worst. What came next blew his carefully crafted mask away. 

“He needs you Cas,” Sam nearly whispered as his voice cracked and he cleared his throat starting again. “He needs you, and if you are going to stay after this you need to know why. Are you going to stay?”

Castiel was stunned. A look of sheer surprise was slapped on his face. He sat there in shock for a moment before he let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding in, scrubbed a still grease stained hand across his face and through his hair. He had to look away from the pain and determination that now shone in Sam's eyes. Shaking his head to clear the buzzing that seemed to be all he could focus on, Castiel looked over at the pale man lying motionless in the bed. 

“I’m not leaving him. How could I walk away?” 

With that question, he looked back into Sam's eyes and could see the relief pouring through him but within a moment he could see the other man's walls go up, could see him harden and some unknown anger go through him. The shift in the other man had Castiel sitting up straighter again, it had him readying himself for the worst, not for himself but for Dean, for what Castiel needed to know and he knew that was going to mean finding out why Dean was hurting. 

Castiel had only met Sam the night before, but he felt like he had known this man forever, from hearing Dean and Bobby talking about him to having been drunk and seeing each other with their guards down to having gone through a crisis together. He felt like he could see into the man's soul. That he could read the pain and the determination to help his brother and stand by him so strong from across the room. Castiel believed he could read a man's soul after staring into the eyes of so many soldiers in the desert, after seeing their pain, their hatred, and their despair and what he saw in Sam's soul was a darkness so strong it should have overtaken him.

Sam’s strength of will and commitment to those he called family over powered the darkness that seemed to always linger. Castiel knew now with the look of the darkness boiling through Sam that what came next would make or break his life here in Sioux Falls. And with all that he had in him Castiel was determined to not let these Winchesters break him. 

And so Sam spoke.

It had been almost two years since the Winchester brothers had seen or even heard from their father. Now 13 years old, Sam rarely even spared a thought for the man. He didn’t need him, they didn’t need his bad attitude and abandonment, and Sam didn’t miss him. Sam knew that his brother did though. He knew that almost every move Dean made in the first year after John left was a sort of penance, like if he did it right, if he was a good soldier, Dad would come home. 

Dad never came home. Dad just left them at some dump of a motel off the highway, paid till the end of the month and slipped out in the night after telling Dean he was a disappointment. Sam would never forgive him for that. Even at 11, he knew how much that had hurt his brother. Knew that it was unfair for their dad to leave a 15 year old Dean to fend for himself and to raise his younger brother. At first, Sam just thought that Dad was off working or drinking and would come home like he always did. But three weeks later when the groceries were scarce and Dean was stealing extra lunches from the cafeteria at school to feed his little brother dinner, Sam realized Dad wasn't coming home. 

Then Sam did what he had to, what he knew that Dean wouldn’t do. Sam couldn’t bear to have his brother keep stealing and allowing himself to waste away while Sam was fed. So, Sam dialed the number written in the back of the borrowed book he never let leave his duffle. Two days later when they came back to the dirty room after school, Bobby was leaning against their motel room door, groceries in hand and a look that meant business. 

Almost two years later, Sam was the highest scoring soccer player the Sioux Falls Middle School team had ever seen, had high grades, and was happy. Dean was slowly allowing the anger at his father and his treatment at his hands be shown, was allowing himself to be a teenager and be true to himself. Dean dated and flirted with just about everyone, and he worked hard for Bobby when he wasn't at school. He did it because he wanted to repay the man for his kindness, and maybe so that he could have a future for himself in Bobby’s scrap yard, and not because he felt like a failure to John Winchester. But as it always did, when things become too easy, too normal for the Winchesters, tragedy struck. This time in the form of one John Winchester's disastrous return to his son's life. 

Sam remembers it like it was yesterday. He never allowed himself to forget the fear he felt that day- the panic, the tears.

Sam always got a thrill out of the chase, the skill he put forth when the ball was in his sight. Even today at practice, he couldn't help but get into the zone soccer always gave him. This game was like an escape from life, from the stress of school work, from the hormones racing through him at 13. Right now nothing was bad, he wasn’t angry or confused and he finally felt like he knew his place in the world. Puberty was hell, but he had found his escape from dealing with it and all of the other minor things that plagued his life. When the whistle blew and snapped him out of his mad dash for a goal, Sam’s first reaction was to look into the stands. Like clockwork, there was Dean. He had never missed a game, had never missed a practice and had always been the one to help Sam run drills to get better at the one thing he really enjoyed. More than once Sam had caught himself thinking that Dean should have been his father rather than the no good, dead beat that John was. He always stopped himself and remembered that Dean deserved to be happy and not be dragged down by Sam or Dad’s drama. 

And just like he expected, there was Dean, like an embarrassing parent with both thumbs up and beaming down at him. Beside Dean was Aaron, a kid Sam knew was in his brother’s social studies class. It wouldn't surprise him if this was Dean's latest fling or boyfriend and that made Sam smile. Sam was so happy that Dean was finally allowing himself to just be happy. 

A clap on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts and back to practice. With a firm reminder from Coach Mills, Sam headed over to get some water and rehydrate after the first half of practice. As he turned away from Dean and the bleachers he missed the once familiar man standing in the shadows. 

Castiel saw Sam break, saw the chinks start to form in his armour. Knowing that there was so much more, Castiel placed a reassuring hand on the taller man’s shoulder. For just a moment, he wordlessly let Sam know it was okay not to be strong right now. With a sniffle and a shake of his head, Sam seemed to come back to himself and Castiel sat quietly, letting him finish telling his story. 

“I guess...” Sam cleared his throat and continued, “I guess my Dad had been looking for us for a few weeks. He heard from one of his hunting buddies that Bobby had retired from hunting and had adopted a couple of kids and he put the pieces together. The man couldn't stand someone else raising his kids but he also couldn't be a man enough to take care of us himself.” Castiel saw Sam's fist clench as he said this.

“I never really realized how homophobic my Dad was. I mean I knew he was bad to Dean but I never thought…” Sam stopped, just for a moment and seemed to collect himself. “I didn't even realize what was happening until I heard Dean shout. I guess my Dad saw him with Aaron and flipped, went up and started yelling at him, horrible things I assume. Dean would never tell me but since then he’s been really closed off. When I turned around, I saw them fighting. I could see the anger pouring off Dad and I could see Dean standing up for himself. I had only ever seen Dean stand up to my dad once, when Dad back handed me after I ran off in Flagstaff, but this Dean and this reaction was fierce. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but I could see, I could see when Aaron backed away to go for help, or to run away, who knows? I could see when Dean had enough and went to walk away and I could see when Dad snapped. Dean turned to walk away and Dad hit him, punched him right in the side of the head.” Sam breathed for a moment, and continued on.

“After that it was like slow motion, Dean was turning away and the hit knocked him off balance, he didn't see it coming, he didn't brace. God, he fell so far down those bleachers. They were nearly at the top. Watching him fall, seeing him fucking bounce like that down the stairs, I still see it in my nightmares.” Now tears were streaming down Sam’s face, and Castiel realized he too was not unaffected by the horror story unfolding before him. 

“I couldn't get to him fast enough. No matter how fast I ran, I felt like it took forever to get to him. And Dad, my Dad just stood there. I don't know. I think he was in shock or something, but the cops got there first and he was just standing in the same spot, staring down at us when they arrested him. 

“When the ambulance came they wouldn't let me go with him. God, I have never fought so hard in my life but there was just too much going on and he wouldn't wake up. Somebody called Bobby and the next clear memory I have is being wrapped in a blanket, sweating my ass off, but shaking so hard I could barely speak in the front seat of his old beat up truck on the way to the hospital. They made me get checked out, said I was in shock. All I could think of was that I needed to get to Dean, I needed to see him and make sure he was okay.” At this point, the tears were streaming down Castiel's face unchecked. Sam was staring off into the middle distance, he leaned back in his chair, ran his hands through his hair, and wove his fingers together at the back of his head before continuing.

”Ummm…. When he fell down the stairs he broke his collarbone, a couple of ribs and severely fractured his leg. All of those things were mendable. They would take time but he would be able to walk again and they would heal. It was the head...” Castiel watched again as Sam took a moment to collect himself before continuing. 

“It was the head injury that was the problem. They said he hit his head pretty bad on the edge of one of the seats when he fell. He was unconscious for almost a week. That was the longest week of my life. And when he woke up, he started having seizures. God they were so bad. He was already broken and shouldn't have been moving and he just couldn't stop himself. I have never seen my brother so broken and so fucking lost.” Here Cas could hear Sam's voice crack, saw him staring at Dean, laying once again in a hospital bed unconscious and hurting. 

“They called it PTS or post traumatic seizures, it can happen when you have a traumatic brain injury and can affect people for the rest of their life or for just a little while. It's…. it’s been almost ten years and he still has them. It's been almost two years since the last significant one and Dean was slowly starting to get back to normal, he was driving again, not afraid to go out in public … he was himself again.” Here Sam stopped. Castiel could see there was so much more that could be said, but he didn't believe that Sam had the energy or will to tell the rest of their story. 

Castiel could feel his entire heart shatter, each piece reaching out to the man beside him who had to watch his hero and his entire world crumble and suffer for too long, and to the man who was so strong and so fierce but was now looking lost and broken on the too white sheets in front of him. After that, not a word was spoken. The two men sat together, both living in the terrifying memory of a past stolen away from the man before them, and both uncertain of the future once he would wake.


	8. Chapter 8

Today, like every day, Dean woke up with a cold nose nudging his face. But unlike most days, today Dean didn't have work, didn't have something to distract him, couldn't go to the garage and lose himself in baby’s engine, away from his thoughts. He couldn't shake the black cloud that seemed to be constantly hanging over his head the past few days. 

The two day hospital stay may have been one of his shortest, but it felt like a lifetime in that oppressive room. As expected, Sam coddled him within an inch of his life, Bobby was gruff and over protective in the way only Bobby could be, but it was the silent presence almost always at the back of the room that really stood out. Cas never left, and as much as Dean never wanted him away from his side, he couldn't bare to have Cas seeing him like this, for him to know that Dean was defective and no good. 

God it had been awful, not only to deal with the damn seizures and what that entailed, but to have something so good so close and to feel like he fucked it up by being broken. Was it really just a few days ago when Dean was wishing that he had Castiel's number? Now he was so glad he didn’t have it, and he didn’t have to wait around as his phone failed to ring. Or worse, if it did ring and it was Castiel calling, pitying him. It was better this way. Sure, things would go back to being weird at the shop, but Dean didn't really have to be there to do paperwork. He could just ask Ash to email him whatever needed to be done, because god knows Bobby would put his fist through the computer screen before he could even figure out what gmail was. 

The first day home from the hospital had been just as difficult as he expected. Though he was not physically hurt, everyone was treating him like chipped glass that was close to shattering if prodded, so they tiptoed around him. His phone was constantly vibrating after he finally convinced Sam to leave him and Daffodil alone at the house, messages from friends and family far and wide wanting to “check on him” or “see if you need anything”, and each one was ignored as he and his dog reconnected and tried to process the past few days. 

It wasn't very often that Dean and Daffodil were separated and he felt like it weighed on her as much as it did him. Even though they had only been in each others lives for a couple of years he couldn't imagine life without her. Today, they were going to spend the day laying out in the backyard and just relaxing if he had any say in the matter. Tomorrow, he would have to go back to work and face real life. He would have to deal with Meg hounding him like a hell beast for not taking care of himself, would have to deal with Sam’s hourly texts checking his sanity and well being, and he would have to deal with the bus again. 

The worst part about this situation was losing his licence again and being separated from Baby. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but public transportation with a service dog or any animal was a pain. But at least now he had a plan. He had gone through this before and survived it, unhappily, but still he made it through. Now he would just add one simple change. He would take the bus to work, ignore or avoid the hell bitch until she forgot about his hospital visit or found some other unlucky victim to pester, play happy when Sam called, repeatedly, and come home to avoid the shop. Rinse and repeat. It was perfect. Perfect except for that he would be miserable and he had ruined his one last respite and happy place by going and falling for the best damn mechanic since Dean had stopped working for Bobby. Peachy.

\-------------------------------------------

The next day came bright and much much too early for the librarian and his dog. Dean went about his usual routine with an air of dissatisfaction at having to rise so early and a sense of dread for what the lay ahead of him. Daffodil was always by his side, but even she seemed to be in a mood or maybe she could feel the tension wafting off of him. Either way his dog was whimpering every few minutes like the day was just too much already, sticking closer to his side than was strictly necessary, with her ears drooping down. In the last 24 hours, Dean had received 5 calls from Sam, 13 texts, a long winded email from Meg complaining about the state of the library in his absence, and a slew of phone calls and messages from the rest of the lot. He didn't answer one. 

While brushing his teeth, he thought about his family. He knew they cared, he knew they just wanted to help but, goddamn it, he just wanted to be left alone. He'd been down this road before, he knew what to do. They were acting like he was going to disappear off the face of the earth or nose dive back into the pit of depression. He wasn't… not really. Was he? Dean stopped after washing the toothpaste from his lips and stared into the mirror. He saw himself just as he had always looked, maybe a little paler, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced but that was to be expected after the past few days’ events. 

But something else was there, hidden under the tiredness in his eyes or maybe even causing it. Staring into his reflection he just felt empty. He didn't think he had been acting too off. Sure, he had been avoiding the brady bunch but they were insufferable. Everyone would probably be more worried if he was talking to them. So, why was he feeling this way? Why did he feel like he had had a limb cut from his body? He made the decision to stay away from Cas, but that was for the guy’s own good. No need for him to be dragged down in Dean's shit hole of a life. At this thought, Dean pushed himself away from the sink. Time was short and he he didn't need to waste anyone’s time wishing for things that would never happen. 

But even after his shower and getting dressed, Dean couldn't help but spare a thought for how much he wished he could see Castiel again. 

\--------

Castiel felt stupid. He felt stupid and tricked and a little bit like a stalker. Well, you see Castiel was parked across the street from the guy who he was kind of seeing but who was currently ignoring his very existence. He wasn't here to spy on him or anything, wasn't looking to crowd or pressure him. He was just there to offer the man a ride. He could only imagine what it was like to have your independence stripped away so suddenly and violently, and he wanted to offer the man who plagued his every waking moment a sense of dignity and control. So Castiel was subtly stalking him, with permission, but still stalking him. Castiel slammed his head down on the steering wheel and let out an exasperated groan. Any second now Dean would come walking out of his front door and all of this would be over. 

Five minutes went by with Castiel's anxiety only rising, doubt and concern warring in his brain. He saw the bus come and go 3 minutes ago, but still no Dean. He was beginning to think that he had missed Dean, or maybe that he had spotted Castiel's stalker mobile across the street and had slunk out the back. Even just the thought made Castiel cringe. 

Another few minutes went by before he saw the front door across the road begin to open. A very familiar dog came bounding out to sniff the yellow flowers by the side of the house and then a very familiar, very well dressed man walked out of the house. Castiel had seen Dean dressed for work before but it was always hours after his shift had ended and the man's shirt had been unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up and hair ruffled. He had never seen the man like this and his mouth went dry. Dean’s hair was gelled and he was wearing a well cut navy suit with a cleanly pressed white shirt underneath. Around his neck was a sky blue tie. Though the man was well dressed, he did have an air of panic surrounding him like he had rushed through dressing that day. Dean’s tie was backwards, slightly crooked and he was shrugging on what looked to be a well-worn or maybe just well-loved tan overcoat as he closed the door and called for the golden dog now chasing a bee through the small garden.

Castil was so transfixed on the image that was Dean in a full suit that it took him a moment to realize the man had stilled. It also took him a moment to realize that he had been spotted sitting like a creeper across the street staring at the guy he might be, maybe sort of, dating. 

Awkward. 

He did notice when the surprised look fell from Dean's face and was replaced with anger and something else, maybe betrayal by the sneer that flickered in Castiel's direction before Dean picked up the computer bag that had slipped from his shoulder, whistled to Daffodil and started stalking over to the junker Castiel had been hiding out in. 

Castiel scrambled to get out of the car when he saw Dean's stormy expression. He had to fix this, if it even was fixable. He had to explain that he wasn't following Dean, he wasn't being a creep, but that he was…. being yelled at from an angry Dean who was now barreling down at him with righteous fury. 

“Dean-” Castiel started. 

“Save it Cas, I don't need a babysitter.” Dean snarled at him. “Who did it? Was it Sam? I can't believe he roped you into this, I’m a damn adult! I don't need a babysitter and I sure don't need you showing up on my doorstep out of some sort of misplaced pity. I don't fucking need-” 

“Pity?” 

Castiel interrupted the blonde man's tirade, voices rising much higher than was strictly respectable at 7:30 in the morning. “I don't fucking pity you Dean. I'm not here to treat you like a child or hold your hand. And I'm not Sam's fucking errand boy.” 

At the accusation from Dean, Castiel saw red. He realized he was being a dick but right now he just didn't care. “I’m here because I was fucking scared. I'm here because I fucking care about your sorry ass. I'm not here for anyone else or following someone's fucking scheme. I'm here for you, you dick. Fuck you. You scared me and then you wouldn't even acknowledge me in the hospital. What do you think it was like walking down those stairs, to see you like that? You think I fucking pity you? Dean, you are the strongest fucking person I know but you are also the fucking stupidest.” Castiel paused to catch his breath. He was so damn angry, so riled up, and all of the tension and fear and sadness he had felt since he had seen Dean pain-wracked on the floor of Bobby’s shop was bubbling out of him. 

“Cas... I…” Dean started meekly.

“Save it, Dean,” Castiel interrupted. “Get in the fucking car, you missed your bus.” Castiel turned his back on Dean, climbed back into the rust-bucket Bobby had given him and waited for the other man to make his decision.

It seemed like hours before the back door opened and Daffodil jumped in. Within seconds she had her head propped up on the seat over Castiel's shoulder and was licking his face. He reached up scratched the fur behind her ear, kissed her snout, and whispered his apologies for being loud into her fur. 

The ride to the library was silent, save for the dog panting in the back seat. The cab was filled with all of the things the two men weren't saying, the tension from their fight and the kiss that seemed so long ago simmering between them. 

When Castiel pulled up to the library and threw the truck in park, no one moved. It was like the tension would explode if even a muscle was moved or a word spoken. Finally, Castiel heard Dean let out a heavy sigh. Hearing this, Castiel couldn't take his eyes off of the steering wheel in front of him, couldn't bare to look over at the man who was driving him slowly insane. 

“Cas,” Dean started. “Cas look at me, please.” For a moment Castiel thought about holding out, thought about letting the other man suffer, but the heat simmering in his blood and the reminder of his fear of losing Dean made him turn his head. It made him look into the green eyes that had haunted him since he got to Sioux falls. 

“Cas, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have assumed that you were being my brothers patsy. I’m sorry.” Castiel saw the other man's eyes soften as he continued “You have been the only one in a while who's treated me like I'm not broken.” 

“Dean you’re not brok-” Castiel’s went to reach out to the man but stopped as Dean closed his eyes for a split second and raised a hand to silence him.

“I’m kind of broken, always will be.” Dean stated. He reached out and grasped Castiel's forearm that was now clenched tight in a fist, his eyes softened as he stared back at Cas. “I’m sorry. Please don't ever treat me like I'm broken... I don't think I could bear it if you did, too.” 

“I'm sorry, Dean. I just wanted to give you a ride. I don't want you to think I was trying to, I don't know…” Castiel reached up with his left hand and scrubbed at his eyes and line of his forehead as he searched for words. “I don't pity you Dean.” 

And at that the conversation seemed over. Castiel could feel some of the tension ease from the cab, he could feel the tendrils of hope sliding back into his heart. A small smile graced Dean's face and Castiel thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He watched as Dean collected his bag, got out of the vehicle and released Daffodil all with that same small smile on his face. He saw Dean turn to walk away from him and into work, but he hesitated. Then Dean turned, leaned over to the open passenger window. 

“Heya, Cas….how did you know where I lived?” At this question Castiel felt his entire body light up and could feel the blood rushing to his face. He saw Dean's eyebrow quirk at the sight of him blushing and fumbling. Finally, Castiel couldn't hold off the truth any longer. 

“Sam told me,” he blurted out, embarrassment and shame flying though his body. Dean stilled for only a moment before he threw back his head and let out the most joyous and near hysterical laugh that Castiel had ever heard. The man's body shook and eyes crinkled. The sound coming from his body was like music to Castiel’s ears, and he was transfixed.

He had thought that the little smile Dean graced him with the moment before was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but he’d been wrong. Castiel knew from that moment on that he would do anything to make Dean laugh for as long as he could. 

\-----

 

Dean was still laughing when he made his way into the library. He had completely forgotten to be wary and to dread running into Meg until the moment he saw her, perched on the front desk sipping a coffee and staring at him with an eyebrow raised. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Deano?” She slipped off of the desk and sauntered towards him. “I’ve got to say it’s a nice change from your usual ‘unexpected vacation’ demeanor,” she finished with a smirk. Dean just chuckled again and responded with a cocksure smile. 

“You know me, Meg. I’m just a sunshine and daisies kind of guy.” His southern accent always made an appearance when he was being sarcastic. “Nothing can ever keep me down.” This caused Meg to shoot him a disbelieving glare and Dean swore if her eyebrow shot up any faster it might never be found again. 

“I’d believe that if I didn't already know you haven't gotten laid in, what is it...” she said looking innocent and putting one finger on her lips. “Oh... two years,” she said tapping the end of his nose in her last word. 

Instead of getting annoyed like he usually would by Meg’s spot on assessment, Dean found himself laughing quietly, remembering the look on Castiel's face and ridiculousness of how his morning had turned out so far. 

“You got me Meg,” Dean said with a smirk. “Just happy to be back,” he finished and turned to make his way to the children's section. Meg could try as hard as she liked to be a souless bitch who cared for no one but herself, but Dean knew better. He knew she called Sam at least twice a day whenever Dean was in the hospital, he knew she hated the interns and most adults but she had a soft spot for kids and the elderly, he also knew no one could ever really be cruel when that someone slid Daffodil treats everyday. She tried to deny it, but Daffy eats like her daddy- no manners and you could hear her chewing from a mile away. 

Setting down his bag once he reached his office and looking out the window at the currently empty children's section in the library, Dean reflected on Meg's words and how right she was. The last two times he had a seizure and was out of work, the depression and the feelings of worthlessness had weighed him down for weeks. Not to say they weren't there now, but he didn't feel like they had the same weight as they did before.

Yesterday, he dreaded coming back here and was lost in his own head. Even this morning before he walked out the front door, his mood had been shitty. But something about the talk with Cas helped him see things a little differently. God, Dean hoped no one else ever found out that getting screamed at and called “a fucking dick” would set him straight and pull him out of his funk, but looking back, it really had. Cas wasn't afraid to call him on his shit, wasn't scared to get in his face. For so long his family had acted like he was too fragile to tell the truth to or treat the same. Honestly, Cas was refreshing. He had been treated so differently for so long. Cas didn't treat him like glass, didn't coddle him or force false concern down his throat. Cas had been different. Sure, he had been there to shuttle Dean's sorry ass to work but where at first he felt like Cas was feeling sorry for him, he now realized he was actually being kind and, dare he think it, acting like he cared about Dean. 

Dean shook his head and sat down at his computer, booting it up and looking through his schedule. He didn't have time to sit around daydreaming about Cas when the guy would be sick of him in no time. 

Dean's day was like a roller coaster. Just because he had been out of work for almost a week didn't mean the library stopped running without him. He felt like his entire day was spent drowning in paperwork and any good mood that was left was gone after his realization that what he had with Cas could never be. He had been stupid to let himself think even for a minute that it was possible. Sooner or later, Cas would be gone and the only thing Dean would have to remember him by was the bittersweet memory of his laugh and the kisses shared before he ruined everything.

Except for he wasn't. Cas wasn’t gone. 

After Dean spilled his afternoon coffee, ignored three calls from Sam, sat through another useless meeting with the board, and fell further in his slump than he had in a while, Cas was there. Like an oasis in the desert, Castiel was outside when Dean got off of work, leaning against that rusted out beater, smoking a cigarette, and the two men just stared at each other for a long moment. 

It seemed like a millennia but must have been only a few moments before Dean felt the cold nose and soft muzzle of his sweet Daffodil nudging his clenched hand. With a deep breath, and before he could talk himself out of it, Dean hitched his bag higher on his shoulder, tapped Daffodil’s ear and walked over to the other man, neither saying a word as they got in the car.

Driving home that night was tense. Not as tense as the morning, but neither Cas nor Dean exchanged a word. It was like their easy camaraderie from only a week ago was lost somewhere between the shop and the hospital and further tarnished hours before. Dean didn't expect to see Castiel the next day.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Dean started his day bright and early, just like any other day.

Step one: Defend himself against a giant drool monster, try not to think about Cas  
Step two: Shower and shave, ignore the dark circles under his eyes  
Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree  
Step four: Feed and water the drool monster  
Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of six medications, and two more cups of coffee and dry toast which goes down like charcoal and sandpaper  
Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day, realize how empty his life is  
Step seven: Pack the pup a hearty lunch, a granola bar for himself and leave for the bus  
Step eight: Stop in his tracks at the sight of the raven haired man standing directly outside his door holding two coffees, a doggie bag which smelled suspiciously like bacon and an actual doggie bag from the pet bakery across town. 

Dean just stood there, leash in his hand, slack jawed expression on his face and a whining pup at his side. 

“Morning sunshine.” Castiel smirked at the blond man's slack jawed expression. He let out a deep chuckle “Want some coffee?” he asked holding out one of the cups in his hand. 

That seemed to push Dean out of his momentary delirium “Cas what...” A wry smirk from the other man stopped him short. He was going ask him what he was doing here, why was he wasting his time with a loser like him but seeing the soft smirk on the other man’s face, and one raised brow, Dean decided he just didn't care why Castiel was wasting his time. If the man wanted to spend every morning with a wretch like Dean, then it was his own business and Dean would just enjoy it while it lasted. 

Reaching out and taking the coffee finally, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Um ah… Hey Cas. Thanks for the coffee. You wanna come inside?” Dean asked while inclining his head back towards the house. The smile that lit the other man's face was breathtaking. 

“Yeah um.. Yeah Dean, I’d like that.”

Dean was amazed by the almost shy smile that took over the other man’s face. It was like it had taken all of his nerve and swagger to show up on Dean’s door step, and now he was uncertain. Dean wondered if he thought he wouldn’t even get this far, and considering Dean’s attitude yesterday he could understand Castiel’s reluctance. But the fact that he did show up, that he obviously thought about this, went out of his way for him and included the most important thing in Dean’s life during his planning… Dean was even more smitten and embarrassed by his previous actions. 

How could this man still want to be around?

\---------------------

Castiel had not thought this through. Well he had, he knew if he could make it into the house that he would be golden. But now, standing on Dean’s doorstep with the man dumbstruck and not responding had Castiel second guessing himself. Was this too much? Had he crossed a line, or was there even a line left to cross? The waves of emotions and worry that rushed through him in those moments and the work to keep his calm was draining his resolve and making him want to run and hide, but it was too late now. He had promised himself that he would make this all okay. He would try his hardest to even the playing field and to make Dean understand that there was nothing wrong with him. Overall, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing having two people who were so fucked up being together, but he knew no matter what that Dean was it for him and if that meant putting his shitty past on display and tearing out his bleeding heart for the other man, then that was what he would do.

This was it. This was his last ditch effort, and with that thought his resolve sharpened, and his confidence grew. Allowing this new found confidence to take charge he started. “Morning Sunshine.” Holding out the cup that was Dean's he chuckled and asked, “Want some coffee?

For another moment Dean just stood there, leash in his hand, slack jawed expression on his face. Then he seemed to snap out of it, reacting almost violently for a moment before Castiel watched him stop himself, saw his face harden for only a moment before the best thing happened. Castiel heard Dean clear his throat, respond in kind and invite him in. The relief and the happiness that lit Castiel up from the inside was like no other, but it was quickly doused with shock. Holy shit, now what? Castiel knew the plan, knew he just had to make it inside the house but now that he was there he was wrought with nerves. He had planned to get in the door, not what to do once he was actually in the door. And now here he was, inside Dean’s house for the first time, standing across the bar from him in a warm and inviting kitchen full of knick knacks and painted a light butter yellow, and he was tongue tied. 

“I ah…. I hope this is okay, but I thought we could have breakfast together. I mean if you haven’t already eaten breakfast. And we could talk. I feel like we haven’t talked. and there’s so much to say and I want to tell you about what happened and Sam said- well not that I run to Sam for everything- but Sam said that today you didn’t really have to be there until noon, but you went in early because you were bored and if that's so I was hoping... “ His words trailed off and Castiel realized he was rambling, looking at the counter and not at Dean’s face. He had no idea if Dean even understood the mess that had just come out of his mouth. He peeked up through his lashes at him, expecting to see resentment or annoyance showing on his face. The mechanic felt like he had crossed all of the lines between them the past few days and he hoped that this one wouldn’t be the last straw. But what he saw wasn't annoyance at all, it was amusement and maybe a soft fondness. This gave him the courage to clear his throat and continue. “I was hoping we could spend the morning together and maybe I could tell you a little bit more of why I ended up in the middle of South Dakota.” Keeping his eyes locked with Dean’s when he said this, he saw the other man’s amusement turn to something softer. Castiel felt like he could read this man’s face for the rest of his life and he would never get tired of how the expression just poured out through his eyes. 

Castiel saw Dean give a slight nod, and he took a deep breath trying to center himself for what was to come. He always tried to push these memories to the back of his mind, thinking nothing was worth the pain of reliving them, but maybe Dean was. Castiel may not have seen the other man at his worst but he could picture it. He could picture him as a scrawny teenage, maybe tasting his first bite of love and then having the person you should be able to trust most tear it away from you. Castiel yearned to see the hope that probably was once inside of Dean, which was now all but extinguished. Dean thought he pitied him, Dean knew he knew Castiel, and thought Castiel would never want him for the faults that were forced on him. But Castiel understood. Though he did not have the same physical reminder everyday of what was done to him, he carried it with him everyday and it had shaped his life up until this point. It had stopped him from taking the leap, from truly living. That is until a certain green eyed menace and his furry companion entered his life. And now Castiel knew that it was time. Time to take that leap, to level the playing field and to make them equals once and for all. 

Dean’s hand resting on his shoulder pulled him out of the dark thoughts swimming through his head, and Castiel realized that he may have been silent too long, been lost in his mind too deep to realize that Dean had leaned over the bar and reached out to him. “Maybe I should call Meg and take the day off. I’m really not feeling well and could use a movie day after our talk. We could order in lunch and binge watch Netflix until I feel better.” Dean said, while staring deep into his eyes. Castiel understood his offer, and knew dean was saying he wasn’t going to throw him out, that no matter what Cas said he would still be welcome here. It amazed Castiel that Dean could read him as well as he could read Dean. Maybe skirting each other’s shadows for so long made them more aware of each other rather than less. 

“Yes.” Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, I think you should take some time off. We don’t want you to suffer alone either. I’m sure Bobby won’t mind me taking a sick day, too.” Castiel finished. He could feel a shy smile crossing his own face as he felt Dean squeeze his hand harder for just a second as his own smile lit up his face. “You make your call and I’ll make mine. Then we can make some fresh coffee and relive our worst experiences. Yeah?” Castiel scoffed out a laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement and reached for his phone. 

Five minutes later found them both sitting on the couch, a reasonable distance between them, holding a steaming mug of coffee and a little more embarrassed than before. Neither boss believed their story and though they were given the day off it came with gentle ribbing and the promise of blackmail months to come. Neither cared. 

While they sat, Castiel told his story. He talked about his mother who was a devout Christian, lived every moment in the Lord's image. About his father, the pastor at their local parish, whose door was open to the community. About growing up as an only child, shielded from the evils of the world and living his life as only a ‘normal’ child would. Castiel knew he was loved, had held onto that love for his whole life, even now. He truly believed that his parents loved him and accepted him. That they were proud of him. He played baseball, practicing with his dad after school and on the weekends. He helped his mother bake pies, cakes and cookies for the church bake sales. For eleven years, he was loved. 

“His name was Jake. I never knew it was wrong to feel for another boy the way I felt for Jake. Homosexuallity wasn’t talked about in our household, so I never even knew it wasn’t normal.”   
Taking a drink from his mug, Castiel swallowed and continued. “We were close. I believe we might have even loved each other, or as much as an eleven and a twelve year old could love each other. We held hands when we were alone, shared our first kiss hiding in the back of the church. It was the sweetest kiss I have ever experienced, it was so innocent and pure. It was in that same church where my world imploded.” At this, Castiel was almost surprised by the tears pooling in his eyes. He reached up his hand to wipe the tears roughly from his eyes, ashamed at his emotions taking control of the story. But before he could continue, Dean was there, closing in the distance on the couch and grabbing the same hand that had just rubbed his abused eyes raw. 

Dean didn’t even say a word. He just held onto Castiel’s hand, being the anchor Castiel always felt he had been missing.

Looking down at their joined hands, Castiel found the strength to go on. “It was my mom who found us. I don’t even know why she was there, but one second we were kissing and the next I was being ripped away and beaten. She had never hit me before. I had never ever seen her that angry before. But in that moment, I felt like she hated me. All of my life I believed she loved me and to see the hate and disgust in her eyes made me realize I was nothing to her. In that moment, I was lost. My father wasn’t any better. For a Christian man who preached acceptance and forgiveness he was quick to condemn and to shun. 

One day I was happy, I had a family and a best friend who I loved, the next I was homeless, thrown away like trash.” The last word was spit out like a curse. He could feel the hand clutched tight to his own and could feel the rage coming off of the man next to him. He couldn’t look at Dean, but he knew the fire that was burning in his eyes, knew the anger flowing through his veins. It was the same anger that flowed through his now. But it wasn’t anger that he felt that day, more than a decade ago. It wasn’t rage or determination that filled his soul when he walked out of his only home’s front door. It was bone shattering fear. It was an 11 year old drowning in despair and feeling every bit like the trash they told him he was. 

“I don’t really remember much else after I walked out of the house with only a backpack and a few dollars I had saved from my birthday money. I must have been walking for hours. Who knows what could have happened to me. The next thing I know I was in the next town over inside of the police station, asking for help. Officer Hanscum...Donna,” He corrected, “She was asking me where my family was, why was I alone and who she should call. I never told her their names, I’ve never told anyone. They told me I was no son of theirs, and in my mind from that moment on I was an orphan. I’ve never been able to properly thank her for taking care of me that night. She is like an aunt to me now, but that day when I broke down and told her I had no family, that my family threw me away and said I was broken and wrong, she held me and tried her hardest to assure me I was more than what they did to me, more than their claims.” Castiel wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes but the feeling of Dean’s hand on his jaw and the gentle thumb wiping away his tears was a surprise. And Castiel felt safe here. Felt safe in this house, with the warm weight of Daffodil laying across his feet, with Dean’s strong hand cupping his jaw. For only a moment, he brought his hand up and covered part of Dean’s, feeling the veins and the warmth radiating off of it before he pulled it to his lips, kissing the middle of his palm and lowering their hands together, lacing their fingers together. Looking down at their entwined hands, he continued.

“Donna was the one who introduced me to Momma.” He said with a small smile. “Miss Missouri Mosley always had a knack for collecting strays, and I was no exception. She scooped me up right when Donna dropped me off, hugged me like I had never been hugged before, like I mattered and like she was actually happy to see me. Missouri has a way about her, everyone who meets her is better for it. She takes in strays and makes them whole again or at least helps them put the pieces back together. 

I lived with her from 11 to 18 and saw her struggle and fight for all of the kids who walked through her door. Usually when foster kids got to Missouri she was their final stop. She got a lot of the kids who had been in bad situations, bad foster homes, and she made each and every one of them, of us, feel welcome and feel like we belonged for the first time in a long time. But I know she struggled. She is the strongest person I know, but the foster system only gives so much money per kid and usually that’s maybe enough to feed them discount food. She scrounged up every cent for us, worked her ass off to have home cooked meals every night, bought us clothes that fit, tried to make sure we had everything we could need to be successful and to be happy. It was hard for her. At one point in time while I was there, we had six kids staying with her. 

When I got there, she had two other kids and it was almost always just the three of us until I turned 16 and the twins showed up. I was the oldest, so I tried to work when I could but no one would hire a 15 year old kid legally. Mama tanned my hide when she found out I was running bets for a club in town, I have never seen her angry or heard her raise her voice until that moment.” Castiel paused there, sitting with an arm across his chest and the other cupping his jaw with a wistful smile on his face. “Benny was younger, but he was the biggest of us all. I swear that kid was never not hungry. He played every sport imaginable, a bull in a china shop, mama used to call him. Then there was the littlest and the wildest of us all. Little miss Charlie had flame red hair and could and can still hack her way into any database or locked server she encountered. She had been picked up at a library when she hacked into the child protective agency’s system and tried to erase her information. They wanted to send her to Juvie, but Missouri put her foot down and said that the girl just needed a chance. Charlie was always getting us into trouble after that. She still lives with Mama today, and helps her keep the house and pay bills on her government analyst salary. 

 

I never told Mama why I was homeless and never ever told them my parents names, even though I still believe mama knew or has an idea. I swear that woman is psychic, could always tell when one of us was lying and always knew what we needed to not feel so alone.” Here Castiel paused, looking up at the man next to him with a wide gummy smile. 

“She sounds like an amazing woman, your Mama.” Dean commented with a smile of his own. 

\---------

Dean sat there in stunned silence listening to Castiel tell his story. From his own experience, he knew parents could be horrible, but the thought of someone treating Castiel that way was heartbreaking. His fear and apprehension at the bar and his uncertainty the past few weeks now made sense. His parents threw him away when he did not fit into their normal, and no parent should ever abandon their child like that. It seemed like they were both lost boys. Both fighting their pasts, and in the sleepy town of Sioux falls they might have found their real families. 

They held hands through most of his confession. Dean might have needed the support almost as much as Cas did, and when the other man pulled his hand away in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture Dean felt the loss like a physical ache. But the look of wonder and amusement on Castiel’s face eased the sting. Even with a past so horrible, Castiel could find the good and the things that made him happy. 

Dean was startled out of his thoughts by Castiel’s deep voice. “She is an amazing woman. She made me stay in school when all I wanted to do was drop out and work. She took care of me even when I was at my worst and when I turned 18 and was going to be pushed out of foster care, she snuck part of her savings into my bag before I left. I had planned to join the military. I never told a soul, but I knew I couldn’t be a burden to her anymore. I knew if I left, another kid would take my place and that kid probably deserved Mama’s love more than I ever would. But again. I swear that woman is psychic.” Dean watched Castiel shake his head and a small smile stretched across his face. “I’ve carried her letter with me since I left home. Seventeen years later and that woman is still saving me. She’s a friend of Bobby’s. I wasn’t even on American soil as a civilian more than a few hours before she had a job lined up for me, chewed off my ear and had me on a bus here.” Here he stopped, biting his bottom lip and his brow furrowed. He sat silently, but Dean knew that he wasn’t done. He sat back and took the last sip of his now cool coffee, waiting for the man in front of him to finish facing his demons. 

“I never told anyone that I like men, even in high school. I dated a few girls but none really held my interest. Lost my virginity to another private in the army. I’m not sure why we did it, but when you are on leave and the drinks are flowing, any way to unwind is amazing. That was the last time I saw her. I don’t think she knew, but I think my buddies did.” His expression and posture turned tight, like he was collapsing into himself as he spoke. “My two best friends from the army, Gabe and Luke, stopped pushing me towards beautiful woman when we were on leave and started to push me towards men. I’ll never know why or how they knew, but the next day I woke up with a splitting migraine and they tried to talk to me about acceptance, and Gabe made a crude joke about two bananas in a sundae. He sported a black eye for weeks, but even that didn’t stop him. We never really talked about it. Any time they tried, I shut it down. But it was nice to have them there, to have support for something I wasn’t even a hundred percent certain about myself. Those two little shits got out before me and are living life in New York. Apparently the both have a fondness for donuts so Gabe opened a bakery and Luke became a cop.” He laughed. Dean swore that it is the best sound he had heard all day. “Such a weird pair, but I don’t think I would have made it through my enlistment without them. They were the reason I came home, I think. They made me miss home, miss a family, and made me want to put down roots of my own.” 

At this, he clapped his hands down on his thighs and the strain behind his smile was apparent to dean. “So that's my story, the good the bad and the ugly. I’ve been fighting what my family did to me for so long that I think it became a part of me. Honestly, until I met you I don’t think I would have ever allowed myself to be who I really am. I’m still having problems with it.” He admitted softly. “But I'm trying, and I’d like to try with you.” 

This admission stunned Dean. He sat there, eyes wide, staring into Cas’ deep blue eyes, thinking through all he had just learned about the man, about what they had been through together and what that admission could mean for them. Dean’s secrets had been put out on a line without his consent, his entire life story and all of his secrets were put into this man's lap and instead of running away or judging him, Castiel had opened up. He had allowed himself to become as vulnerable as Dean had been feeling since he woke up in the hospital so many days ago. 

There were no secrets between them, there were no walls, and Castiel had put the ball in Dean’s court. He knew that if he said no that Castiel would respect his wishes. Cas had shown the type of person he was, and Dean no longer doubted him. And in that moment, after Castiel had bared his soul, Dean no longer doubted himself either.

The kiss was gentle and sweet. One day, maybe Dean would tease Cas for the sound he made when their lips touched. But in this moment, Dean could focus on nothing but this. This, the feeling of lips against his, the smell of engine grease and something simply Cas, his hands running through the soft hair at the back of the other man’s neck, the strong arms clutching at his back, the warm weight of Daffodil across their feet and the all consuming feeling of finding home.

\----Fin----

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed my first DCBB!
> 
> Check out the amazing art by Subtextiel here: https://feathergrave.tumblr.com/post/167000116665/shatter-me-aaaaah-i-had-a-blast-working-on-these
> 
> Thank you so much to my lovely Beta's Bones and Steph, you two were the dream team. I'm honored to have worked with one of my favorite artists Subtextiel. Also I think I would have died without the unending support from Lorin and Shannon. <3 you all soo soo soo sooooooo much. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome :).


End file.
